


a distant lullaby (underneath the shattered sky)

by iamirondad



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Michelle Jones, BAMF Pepper Potts, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Canonical Character Death, Endgame AU, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Pepper Potts Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-01-23 17:01:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21323605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamirondad/pseuds/iamirondad
Summary: Tony was a victim of the snap, but Peter survived.He distances himself from the Avengers and concentrates on learning to live in a world without Tony or his best friend, Ned. He tries to balance his life with MJ, while continuing to be Spider-Man.Five years on, he joins the remaining Avengers on their final stand to undo Thanos’ actions and save the people they lost.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Pepper Potts, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Pepper Potts, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 52
Kudos: 394





	1. affectionate nicknames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHH! You have no idea how excited am I to finally start publishing this! I have been working on this since June, and I really hope you all enjoy it! Updates should be every Tuesday (but life happens, you know?)
> 
> Shoutout to Superherotiger2point0 and SapphiRubyCrys for leaving the nicest comments on ‘From Now On.’ Thank you so much!

Peter ignored the agonising burning sensation in his lungs, and the numbness in his legs, as he charged across the surface of Titan, using the planet’s faulty gravitational pull to his advantage. Tears spilt down his cheeks as he chanted nonsensical sentences through his seized throat, never stopping to take a breath. He knew, for a fact, that if he wasn’t running off adrenaline, he would keel over within a matter of seconds.  
  
He had a reason to keep running. _Tony_. He wasn’t going to let go of the weight on his shoulders until he got to him.  
  
Thanos had stabbed Tony and Peter had done_ nothing_. He had been utterly helpless, paralysed to the spot. He had wanted to save him, but when the moment came, he couldn’t even move.   
  
It was like, watching his uncle die again. It had been three years since that fateful day. The day fourteen-year-old Peter held tightly onto Ben’s hand as he slowly died with a bullet lodged in his chest. Peter had just been bitten by the spider and was getting used to his powers, so he made mistakes and indirectly, it led to that night. He couldn’t let it happen again. He lost his parents, his uncle, the universe surely couldn’t take anymore, especially not from a kid who tries his best to protect his neighbourhood.  
  
The memory of Ben’s passing had wrapped its ugly hand around Peter’s neck, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape it. The thought of losing someone else was just too sickening to imagine. It wasn’t until, Strange gave up the time stone, and Thanos left to wreak havoc somewhere else, that Peter could finally move his feet again.  
  
Peter didn’t understand what had happened, but he was grateful because Thanos was about to kill Tony, and Strange bargained for his life by giving up the stone, even after claiming that the stone was worth more than Tony or Peter.  
  
Peter collapsed down on his knees in front of his mentor, “Mr. Stark!”  
  
Tony was hunched over with his chin dipped to his chest; he had retracted his armour and was just sat in his tracksuit. Peter understood why, even though the Iron Spider suit was groundbreaking, after being in it for a few hours, it was pretty restricting; he couldn’t imagine what it was like in the Iron Man suit.  
  
“Mr. Stark?” Peter hiccuped, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder.   
  
“Hey, kid.” Tony managed to choke out, “Are you okay?” Peter’s posture loosened, he pressed his forehead against Tony’s shoulder as he let out a shaky breath, “Pete?”  
  
“I’m okay,” Peter responded quickly, registering the panic in Tony’s tone.  
  
“Yeah?” Tony threaded his shaking hand through Peter’s hair, “I’m okay too.”  
  
Peter leaned back, keeping a hand wrapped around Tony’s upper arm, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t get to you and couldn’t hel--”  
  
“Hey, _hey._” Tony nudged Peter’s chin up so their eyes met, “This is not your fault. I am glad that you stayed away, okay?”   
  
“But--”  
  
“There are no ‘buts’ here, kid.” Tony told him, “There is nothing you could have done.”  
  
Peter blinked away tears, “You got hurt.”  
  
“I’ll be okay.” Tony reassured him, “And hey Pete, you did really well today, I’m so proud of you.”  
  
Peter’s heart fluttered at the compliment, but then the weight of reality collapsed around him, “We lost.”   
  
Tony avoided his gaze, and shook his head, “Not yet.” He eased, “We’re not the only Avengers, you know?”  
  
Peter nodded, but the sentiment didn’t ease his anxiety; he knew the majority of the Avengers were war criminals, who were on the run from the law. _Had_ _they had been able to assemble again?_  
  
“I wanna go home.” Peter flinched when he heard the words pass his lips; he was sure that he was saying them in his head.  
  
Tony stared at him, with misty-eyes, “Me too.”

Peter had never seen him like this. _Yes_, he’d seen him cry on occasion, after a nightmare or panic attack, most of the time contributed to the fact that Peter got hurt on patrol. This was different, terrifying even. They lost. This wasn’t in the superhero manual. This was unprecedented territory, and neither of them knew what to do, or say. The future was so unclear, that even the idea of going home felt improbable.   
  
Peter put up a brave persona when he noticed the Guardians making their way down towards them, he stumbled back up onto his feet.

Tony winced as he tried to move, he hissed through his gritted teeth; Peter reached down, grabbing his arm, “I’ve got you, Mr. Stark.” He scanned the surrounding area, checking on the rest of the team, making sure they were all right; Quill was using Mantis as a support, while Drax, and the blue alien, who Peter hadn’t been introduced to yet, were walking alone. He turned to check on Strange, as he gripped tightly onto Tony’s arm. Strange was crouched down, staring intently at the ground; Peter knew it was for the best not to interrupt his train of thought.  
  
Peter held out his hand, and Tony moved up, grabbing hold of it. Tony flinched, and Peter used his other hand to grab hold of Tony’s elbow; Peter pressed one hand against his back, making sure he was stable.   
  
“Something’s happening,” Mantis warned, pulling their attention away from one another. She looked up at the sky with wide-eyes, and she faded away, to _dust_.  
  
Peter jolted as the air was knocked clean from his lungs, dread settled in the pit of his stomach. Tony moved away from his grasp, stepping closer to the Guardians, trying to make sense of what was happening.   
  
“Quill?” Drax leaned back and screeched, the sound came to an abrupt end, as he, like Mantis before him, disappeared.   
  
Peter noticed Quill’s hands slowly start to fade away, but the man didn’t realise. He was too caught up in the shock of losing his friends, “Steady, Quill.” Tony said gently, in an attempt to ease the man’s suffering.  
  
“Oh, man.” Quill turned to dust as his sigh came to an end. What struck Peter was that Quill didn’t sound scared, not in the slightest, if anything, he sounded _relieved_. Perhaps because he had found out the love of his life was dead, and he had just witnessed his family disappear around him.   
  
“Peter,” Strange’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle as he called to the kid.  
  
Peter frowned in confusion and panic,_ why would Strange talk to him now? _Surrounded by all this chaos and destruction, why would the wizard, who had been vocal in his disapproval of Peter being there, suddenly change his mind?  
  
Peter turned to face him, Strange’s face softened as soon as they met eyes, “There was no other way.” And with those harrowing last words, he also turned to dust.  
  
“What?” Peter cried breathlessly, confusion clouded his already overloaded mind.  
  
“Underoos?” Tony’s voice was unbelievably quiet and small, his tone didn’t hold the same reassuring confidence that Peter had grown to love. Even the use of his affectionate nickname wasn’t enough to mask the truth, because Peter knew exactly what was about to happen.  
  
He turned on his heel, his stomach lurched at the sight, “No.” He stumbled, as he fought the bile rising in his throat, "No, no..." He hadn’t felt this painfully numb since the day Ben was cruelly taken away from him.

Tony was_ next. _Peter could already see dust particles rising off his back, ready to claim him as the next victim of Thanos’ barbaric attack. Peter couldn’t lose him, not now, _not ever_.   
  
“Mr. Stark!” Peter leapt forward, trembling as he attempted to close the distance between them.  
  
Tony stretched out one of his arms, “Kid...” He cried as he desperately tried to lean closer, but they only had moments left.  
  
Peter realised that Tony wasn’t afraid to die, that wasn’t what this was. He was terrified, _yes_, but only because by dying, he was leaving Peter behind, stranded on an alien planet, lightyears away from home.   
  
Peter tried to grab hold of his mentor’s hand. _Maybe_, if he was able to hold on tight enough, Tony couldn’t be torn away. “No, no!” Peter screamed as Tony’s hand and arm disappeared in a cloud of dust, giving them no time to grab hold, “Tony!”   
  
Tony tilted his head to his shoulder but he kept his teary bloodshot eyes locked on Peter, until he too, faded away into nothing, but ash and dust, which soon disappeared as it flew into the horizon.   
  
Peter’s knees buckled underneath him, and he fell, like a puppet cut free from its strings. He let out a mangled cry until his throat couldn’t handle it anymore, and he couldn’t even break through his agony. His stomach churned, violently; he collapsed forward, fighting back to urge to throw up. He bit down on his lip, hard, to stop himself from dry-heaving, “No.” He slapped his hands on his knees, and rocked himself on the spot, as he sobbed into the silence.  
  
“He did it.” A voice proclaimed from beside him.  
  
Peter looked up to see the blue alien, still standing, he had completely forgotten she was still there. Together, they were among the survivors of Thanos’ lottery, he had murdered trillions, and they were left standing.  
  
A thought struck him hard. This hadn't only happened here, this happened everywhere, the whole universe was suffering simultaneously. What about May? Ned? MJ? Happy? _Had they made it?_

* * *

For the first couple of days on board the Benatar, Peter had been a panic attack, wrapped in a blanket. He had hardly spoken, and he tested Nebula’s patience at times, but even with her cold and stern exterior, she warmed to him pretty quickly. Everyone did, Tony had often compared Peter to a _puppy_, it was impossible not to love him.  
  
Peter could tell that Nebula had been a sister, by the way, she rolled her eyes at his rare attempts at humour, but also the way she called him out when he hid away and didn’t help her fix the ship.  
  
“I do not understand this.” Nebula stated bluntly, though she couldn’t hide the curiosity in her voice. The pair were sat opposite one another, playing another game of _Tic Tac Toe._  
  
Peter had won every time. He felt terrible because Ned had recently taught him a way to never lose. He could tell how disheartened she was, and he was yet to see her smile, so he decided it was time to lose.  
  
“Are you enjoying it though?” Peter asked, sliding her the piece of paper they were using to play.   
  
Nebula leaned forward taking the sheet off him, “It is amusing.” She scribbled her ‘O’ in the top right-hand corner and pushed it back over.  
  
Peter hummed a chuckle, he covered his knowing grin on his face with his closed fist, “Look, you won.” He pointed at the diagonal line of O’s. Nebula leaned over to see, and she smiled, it was _small_, but he noticed it.   
  
The damage to the ship was beyond his and Nebula’s collective skill, there was nothing more they could do. They tore apart the Iron Spider suit, which broke Peter’s heart because it felt like he was letting go of Tony. The sacrifice was _almost_ worth it, they had been able to buy themselves forty hours of flight time, but there was nothing else they could do.  
  
So, they played games. From Tic Tac Toe to Pictionary. It was a coping mechanism at the end of everything.   
  
By the end of week one, Peter felt like he had aged a decade. He was no longer the wide-eyed teenager who had broken into an alien ship and followed Iron Man into the jaws of war.

He let go of all his anxieties and simply accepted the fact that he was never making it home, and he needed a way to distract himself from what was coming.   
  
They were living off basic food rations, they were down to their last barrel of water, and the oxygen was running out. Their time was almost up.  
  
Peter couldn’t explain why, but there was something hauntingly beautiful about being stranded in space with zero chance of rescue. He had been terrified of dying ever since he was a child, but not anymore. It seemed that watching his father-figure fade away had helped numb the worry, and made it easier to accept that he would soon be following suit.  
  
Peter couldn’t imagine a better view to see when he died; the void of space lit up by the bright shine of a million stars. He wondered daily if the people he loved were still alive, and if they were, _would they know that he was okay, in the end?_

* * *

Peter skipped out of the flight deck towards the control room. Black dots swam in his vision and he fell forward, but he caught himself on a nearby chair.

“Parker?” Nebula said in her usual candid tone.  
  
He circled the chair and collapsed back into it, “I’m good.” He managed to say as his teeth chattered, he buried his face in the palm of his hands.  
  
“Take this.” Nebula placed a hand on his shoulder, he looked up, she was clutching onto Quill’s red jacket.   
  
“Thanks.” He took it off her with shaking hands; he was already wearing Quill’s clothes that he had found strung over the ship, it felt wrong to steal a dead man’s things, but he had to work with what he had. He carefully guided it over his arms, he winced at the touch. Everything hurt but he learned to live through it.

He had lost a considerable amount of weight, his skin was a daunting grey, and the whites of his eyes were permanently bloodshot. His powers were fighting to keep him alive while slowly killing him too. They held him together, but his incredibly fast metabolism was also tearing him apart.

It didn’t matter though, the oxygen was hours away from running out, and there was nothing his powers could do for him anymore.  
  
“Here.” Nebula held out a bag of food, Peter shook his head, “Take it.”  
  
Peter gently pushed her hand away, “But that’s all that’s left.”  
  
“I am able to survive months without any substance, you cannot.” She thrust the bag back towards his face, “You need it.”  
  
Peter wrapped his hand around the bag, knowing she wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, “Thank you.”  
  
He took his time eating it, realising that it would _probably_ be the last thing he ever ate.   
  
His thoughts turned to Tony; his mentor hadn’t feared death, _not in the moment_. He had only feared leaving Peter behind.

Peter respected that, now more than ever, because it was exactly how he felt. He wasn’t scared to die, not like he was before, he was just terrified by the thought of his loved ones waiting for him to come home. _Would they ever stop looking? _That question was ridiculous - May would never stop.   
  
Peter let out a shaky breath, and shook his head, trying to escape the thoughts of home.   
  
The darkest part of his mind hoped they were all gone too, and that there was no one left suffering because of his decision to stay on the ship. While his optimism prayed that they were still alive, and would find a way to move on.  
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
Peter looked up at Nebula, who stood on the other side of the control room, watching him intently, with her arms crossed over her chest. When he realised he was crying, he brushed his tears away with the back of his jacket sleeves, “I--I’m just tired.”  
  
Nebula nodded, “Okay.” She stepped out, leaving him sat alone. Peter adored Nebula’s cold bedside manner because she did care, which was why she left. Tony and May had always lovingly smothered him when he was injured or sick, which had been great, but sometimes overwhelming. Nebula, on the other hand, understood that he wanted to be left alone.  
  
“Come on, Peter.” Peter pushed his hands on the armrests and got up onto his feet. He rubbed his forehead, and winced, “Crap.” He was lightheaded, an effect of the oxygen slowly getting thinner. He was worried but ready to close his eyes, for the last time.  
  
He guided himself around to the front of the ship, keeping one hand against the wall to make sure he didn’t keel over. He sat down and made sure he could see out of the main windows, so he could marvel at space in his last moments.  
  
He picked up the Stark suit that was laid over the chair beside him. He hadn’t had the heart to tear it apart, not with the pain involved in ripping the Iron Spider to shreds. It wouldn’t be worth it, in theory, it could have given them an extra five hours of flight time, and they would have still been stuck lightyears away from the closest habitable planet.   
  
He rubbed the material between his fingers, lamenting about the days when he was a simple _Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man, _who rescued cats from trees, and helped the elderly carry their groceries.   
  
The small victories had always felt better than the big ones as they carried less of a weight on his shoulders.  
  
Silent tears chorused down his cheeks, he balled his hands into fists around his suit, and hugged it close to his chest. It was all he had left of Tony, and even though he was gone, as Peter clutched tightly onto the material, it was almost like he was still there.  
  
_I’ve got you, kid._  
  
“I’m sorry…” Peter sighed softly into the silence, he pulled the suit closer, “I’m _sorry_, Mr. Stark.”  
  
Peter was pulled from his sorrow when a blinding light shone through the window, it stung his already flooded mind. He cupped his hand over his eyes, hoping it was just a passing comet or shooting star.  
  
The light did not fade. If anything, it got closer and brighter.   
  
He moved his hand away from his face, he shook his head, as he blinked repeatedly to adjust. It was a ball of indescribable light until the light shifted, and Peter could make out the shape of a figure.   
  
There was a woman, floating outside the window. Her long blonde hair was draped over her shoulders, and she was dressed in a red and blue suit, with a golden star printed on the chest plate. _Peter was pretty sure she was God_.  
  
She locked eyes with him, and a sad saddened smile crawled onto her face.  
  
Peter forced himself to smile back because he knew, whoever she was, she was going to save them. _He was going home. _

* * *

One minute, Peter had been stuck in space on the brink of death, and, next, the Benatar was touching down on the yard outside the Avengers Headquarters.

He wasn’t sure how to feel. He was home but it felt wrong, incomplete and _empty_. Every possible emotion was coursing through his veins, paralysing him. It wasn’t the same world without Tony Stark, it was cold and dismal, and he still didn’t know if he had lost anyone else.  
  
Nebula wrapped her fingers protectively around his bicep, as the ramp doors opened. He tapped her hand as they walked to the stairs, “Thank you.” He grimaced, when they made it down the first step, the sudden jostle was almost too much to handle. Nebula’s grip softened, and she made the effort to lift him slightly as they moved down. He tried to speak to her, but his words were barely audible.  
  
The cool July breeze hit him unexpectedly, the air forced its way into his lungs, and he let out a slow painful breath, as he tried his best to adjust to being back on earth.   
  
A hand pressed against his back and helped him down onto the lawn. He stared up at Nebula, who stood on the steps, watching him being guided away.   
  
He turned to see who was holding onto him, anger crept up his spine at the sight of Captain America. _No_, he lost the right to that name after what he did to Tony in Siberia, _he’s just Steve Rogers._  
  
Peter couldn’t describe the conflicting thoughts ricocheting in his head as he looked up at him. The worst part were his _hands_; Steve was clutching onto him, making sure he didn’t fall, his grip was gentle. That made Peter sick to the stomach because they were the same hands that beat Tony until he was essentially left choking on his own blood.  
  
Tony had never been an open person, that was what Pepper and Rhodey always said, not until Peter came along. Peter had this inherent superpower, people looked into his puppy-dog eyes, and couldn’t help but melt. Tony had built his walls so high, and Peter simply swung over to see what was on the other side. He knew things, memories Tony had shared.  
  
Tony would often blame himself, but Peter saw the _truth_.   
  
“I’ve got you, kid,” Steve said gently. Peter flinched at his use of the word ‘kid’ because only Tony called him that, and sometimes Happy. It used to be an enduring nickname, and now, Peter never wanted to hear it again. It was the last thing Tony had said before he died, it carried an unbelievable weight.  
  
Peter narrowed his eyes, as he tried to gather his thoughts. He had never met Steve or the majority of the Avengers. He had only briefly seen some of them when he fought at Leipzig, and his face had been covered by his mask. That didn’t matter though, because it was obvious that Steve knew exactly who he was. Peter had been stranded in space for almost a month, enough time for the team to catch up with everything they’d missed since they went into hiding.  
  
Steve pulled on Peter’s arm so that he would look up at him. Peter scanned his eyes, searching for guilt because, in his mind, that was all Steve should be feeling. Tony knew this was coming, and Steve turned a blind eye; Peter was beyond disappointed because all he saw was pity.  
  
“I lost him.” Peter was able to choke out, “Mr. Stark, he’s--he’s gone.”

Peter had never truly accepted the fact that Tony had died, not until that moment. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew Tony was gone, but he had been so sure that he was going to die too, that he had never accepted the reality of living a life without his mentor.  
  
“It’s okay.” Steve tried to reassure him, but the way his voice trembled as he spoke gave away his bravado in an instant.  
  
Peter blinked away tears as he leaned his weight into Steve’s arm, “No, it’s not.” He snapped, “Thanos...we couldn’t stop him.”   
  
“Neither could we.”  
  
Peter was sure that Steve thought he was helping, by telling him that no one could stop Thanos, but it didn’t work.   
  
Peter’s head was full of questions, and the more Steve spoke, the more he had. He turned his focus onto May, and he tried to build up the strength to ask if she had made it.  
  
“Peter!” May’s familiar voice cried, answering his question before he had the chance to ask it.  
  
His breath hitched at the sight of his aunt, charging across the field, towards him, “May.” He pushed Steve’s hand off his shoulder, and stumbled forward, attempting to close the remaining distance.  
  
May sped up her sprint at the sight of her nephew’s fatigue, “Peter!” She clumsily caught him in a hug, and supported his weight in a loving hold, “Oh my God.” She pushed her hand through his messy curls while holding him as tight as she could without hurting him.  
  
“May,” Peter repeated her name, like a mantra, because she was alive. He was so used to bad luck following him that he thought she was gone, but _no_, she was there, holding onto him so tight, afraid to let go.  
  
She pressed a kiss against his cheek, “I’m here.” She proceeded to rub comforting circles on his back. A sob erupted from Peter’s throat as he buried his face against her neck, “It’s okay, it’s okay.”   
  
“I couldn’t save him.” Peter cracked, he leaned his chin on her shoulder as his lower lip trembled. They hadn’t held each other like this, since the night Ben died, and those memories were the last thing he wanted to think about, especially on top of Tony’s death.  
  
May twirled her fingers through his hair, “It’s not your fault.”  
  
Peter went to protest but it died in his throat, when his glazed eyes locked onto a figure, only a few steps away. That figure happened to be, the one and only, Pepper Potts.   
  
She was focused on the empty entranceway to the Benatar, her gaze never once faltered. She was waiting for a miracle, that would never come. It was like she expected Tony to run down the steps and hold her, but he never would again. Peter couldn’t blame her for hanging onto a thread of hope because she was used to _almost_ losing Tony, and then getting him back. She was yet to accept the fact that one of those times, would end like this.  
  
Peter separated himself from May, she kept a firm hand on his shoulder as he stepped into Pepper’s line of sight.  
  
Pepper reluctantly allowed her focus to shift onto Peter.   
  
Her mouth twitched in a half-smile, though her tear-filled eyes painted a different story. Half of her knew Tony was gone, and the other half was not ready to admit it. She was still desperately hanging onto hope, and Peter despised the fact that he was the one who had to pull the rug from underneath her feet.  
  
He slowly shook his head, knowing that words would be utterly meaningless.   
  
Her chin trembled, and her mouth opened, agape as she muttered a breathless, “No.” She pulled Peter into her arms, he cautiously brought his hands up; he held her, with all the strength that he shouldn’t have left.  
  
“I couldn’t---” He hiccuped, Pepper’s throat cracked as she shushed him, “I’m sorry.”   
  
He looked over her shoulder at the other members of the team. Bruce stood alone, looking down at his feet as tears traced down his cheeks. Natasha was crying too, but it was silent.  
  
Rhodey was beyond broken, he locked eyes with Peter for a second, and the kid couldn’t bear his pain too, so he closed his eyes, and pressed his forehead against Pepper’s collarbone, shielding himself away from their new reality.

* * *

Peter hadn’t even taken a second step inside the compound before he was being poked and prodded by needles. All he wanted to do was go home, back to his apartment, where he would be surrounded by his things and comforted by the smell of May’s infamous cooking. It was a simple need, after everything he had been through, but he couldn’t go, not yet.

Instead, he was bed-bound at the Headquarters, surrounded by constant reminders of Tony.  
  
Bruce checked him over; he was placed on fluids, and his blood was sent for further analysis. After that ordeal, he was tucked up in one of the infirmary beds and left to process the last three and a half weeks of his life.  
  
May didn’t leave his side, she simply held his hand and stayed. They didn’t speak because there was nothing either of them could say that would ease the other's suffering.  
  
Peter could tell, from the way May was nervously fumblingly with his hand, and avoiding direct eye contact, that she was hiding something, but he knew exactly what she wasn’t telling him. He just didn’t want to hear it yet, he wanted to live in a world of blissful ignorance.  
  
He had lost Tony, he wasn’t prepared to lose anyone else. Even for a moment, he wanted to imagine that he still lived in a world where Ned was still alive, and safe.   
  
As soon as he stepped off the ship, he knew Ned was gone. He didn’t know how or why, but he _knew_. He wondered if his powers were that great, or perhaps his heart could tell that his best friend was gone.  
  
He had to accept the truth, and he couldn’t do that until he heard it. “May?” He cried, she jolted in her seat.

She squeezed his hand, before looking up at him. “Yes, baby?”   
  
Peter tilted his head to his shoulder as he swallowed the lump in his throat, “Ned’s gone, isn’t he?”

May let out a shaky breath, and reluctantly, she nodded.  
  
Peter broke into a series of uncontrollable sobs as the truth, that he knew, still hit hard. He moved his free hand, and leaned his chin against it, as it trembled, “It’s not fair.” He blurted, “May, it’s--it’s not fair.”   
  
May bounced up onto her feet and cupped his cheeks with her hands, she stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss against his forehead. “I know, it isn’t--” She brushed his tears away with the side of her thumb, “I’m so sorry, honey.” 


	2. that's enough

Peter was allowed to stand and walk around, with the support of his IV stand, and under the strict supervision of May or Pepper. He had been uncomfortable and enclosed in the infirmary, so in the early hours of the morning, he had been moved back to the familiarity of his dormitory, which was in Tony and Pepper’s private wing. 

He felt more at home there, but it was not the same without Tony.

He was sprawled across the couch, watching _ Brooklyn Nine-Nine, _he tried to laugh, he wanted too, but it was hard, after everything that had happened.

Pepper was next to him, tapping away on her tablet. She hadn’t given herself time to process the fact that Tony was gone, she buried herself in work and looking after Peter, instead. It wasn’t healthy, but he knew there was nothing he could do but be there for her when she realised.

A notification buzzed on her tablet and a small smile crawled on her face. She leaned forward and placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder, “Hey, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah?” 

“You have a guest.” 

Peter frowned, _ a guest? _ He hadn’t been expecting anyone. Happy was the first person who came to mind, he was still alive, but the last Peter heard, he was in Georgia, “Who?”

Pepper held out her hand and he took it, “Come and see.” Slowly and carefully, he got up onto his feet, using her as the support he needed to stay up.

She guided Peter out of the private quarters into the corridor, she gently tugged on his arm as they turned into one of the many communal lounges. The doors were open, meaning someone was already inside.

Peter stopped in his tracks when he saw Michelle, stood in the centre of the room, nervously biting down on her nails. Peter had known that Ned was gone, but when it came to her, he hadn’t been sure. She had always been a mystery hidden behind a book, a story that Peter couldn’t decipher. _Now,_ she was here, right in front of him and Peter wasn’t sure how to feel or what to say.

He had never seen her so unguarded and anxious before. She was swaying, side to side, on the spot. Peter was used to her being endearingly blunt, but now, she seemed openly vulnerable. He understood that the world around them had just changed drastically, no one could come out being the same person they were before. _ He knew he wasn’t. _

Michelle lit up at the sight of him, and Peter realised that maybe, she had lost everything, and needed a familiar face. Someone she trusted. 

Pepper rubbed circles on Peter’s back, and muttered a quiet goodbye, before turning to leave. Michelle instantly relaxed when the door clicked shut while Peter jolted at the sound.

His mouth twitched into a smile as his eyes glossed over, her being there meant that she knew his secret identity but he didn’t care about that, not in the slightest. She was here, _ alive, _ he hadn’t lost someone else, “Hey.” He greeted, ending the awkward silence that had stretched between them.

She tilted her head to the side, and let out a breathless chuckle. This was when she dropped her last line of defence, and charged forward, “Hey.” She pulled him into a well-needed hug, “Are you okay?!”

Peter nudged the IV stand to the side, and clumsily balanced on his tip-toes so that he could wrap both arms around her, “I’m okay.” He hiccuped, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” They were blatantly lying to one another, but neither of them cared, they were content being in each other’s arms. 

Peter leaned his forehead against her shoulder as they stood frozen for a short while. Regrettably, Peter stepped back first, knowing that even her protective embrace, wouldn’t keep his fatigue at bay.

Michelle pressed a hand against his back, “Um…Let’s sit down.” She stuttered, she carefully guided him over to the couch, and they both sat down.

Peter scanned her, in utter disbelief, “You’re here.”

“Yeah.” She absentmindedly pushed his hair out of his eyes, Peter couldn’t stop his cheeks from burning a bright red. Michelle, realising what she was doing, quickly retracted her hand, “You look like shit.” 

Peter snorted a laugh, “Thank you.” He scraped his teeth over his lower lip as he thought of questions he needed to ask her, “You know about Spider-Man.” That was a statement, not a question because she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t know.

“Well, I was like sixty-seven percent sure.” She blurted, “I’ve been watching you for a while now. It’s kinda obvious.”

Peter dipped his chin to his chest, “I wanted to tell you…”

“It doesn’t matter.” She reassured him, “I liked figuring it out.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, “So, how’d you find me?”

“I thought you were one of the….” She cleared her throat, “The Vanished. I stopped by your apartment a few times and there was no one there, so…”

Peter blinked away tears, weighed down by the guilt of knowing that she spent almost a month looking for him, and he had been up in space, accepting the fact that he was going to die. This is why he had held on, he feared the idea of his family and friends spending their lives searching for him. 

“I don’t have anyone left....” She confessed, “My dad is gone..." 

Peter knew that her father was not a nice man, and she didn’t seem to be bothered that he was gone. That broke his heart. Peter only ever had beautiful and kind parental figures, ones who loved him unconditionally. _Yes,_ he had lost his parents, his uncle and Tony, but that was a different pain to what Michelle had to go through every day. He was grieving people he loved, while she was left to grieve for a life she never had because her dad wasn’t worth it.

“It wasn’t until last night when the news said that Spider-Man came back and I hoped it was you.” She explained, “I asked the school for your numbers. I couldn’t get through to May, but then I got through to someone called Happy...” Peter nodded, “He told me you’d be here, but he didn’t say anything about Spider-Man, but you know..."

“Yeah.” Peter nodded, “So, um, wait, where are you staying at the moment?”

She visibly cringed, turning up her nose, “School has opened its doors to students who need a home, some of the classrooms are like dorms now.” Peter’s eyes widened as he imagined the chaos, “I hate it.”

“You can stay with us.” Peter proposed, “You’ll have no other choice when May finds out, she won’t let you go back to... _ that _.”

She chuckled and nodded, “Yes, that’d be...cool. Thank you.” 

After a couple of seconds, her laughter came to an abrupt stop and her face fell. She turned and pulled off her backpack. “I have something, that you should have.” She unzipped the front pouch and took out a small object. She cautiously took hold of Peter’s hand and she pressed the object in his palm, “Here.”

Peter could tell by the way her chin was trembling, that the tiny piece of plastic in his hand was a heavy burden to carry. He cautiously moved his fingers back to see what it was. He sucked in a sharp breath as his chest tightened; the object was the figurine of _ Sheev Palpatine _ from Ned’s Lego Death Star, his friend had carried it everywhere because according to him, it gave him courage.

Peter’s throat cracked as he looked up at her, he tried to speak but he could only manage a slight whimper. “I found it after everyone disappeared.” Michelle sniffled, “I knew it was his, he never went anywhere without that thing.”

“Yeah.” Peter hugged the figurine close to his chest, “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry.” She sniffled, “He was amazing, and all I ever did was call you guys losers.”

He could hear the guilt in her voice, but it didn’t stop him from inhaling a small laugh, “We love that, you know? You calling us losers.” He waved his free hand out in front of him, “It’s our thing_. _And it comes from the heart.” 

Michelle barked a laugh, which was able to crack through her occasional sob, “Yeah. I’m just sorry he’s gone.”

“Me too.” Peter sighed as he held onto the Lego Figurine as tightly as he could. 

“So…” She trailed off, “What’s going to happen now? With like Spider-Man and stuff.”

Peter deflated and hunched forward, “I don’t know. I’m not sure…"

“Don’t give up.” She interrupted, “We just lost, and I think, I think they need you now more than ever.”

“Yeah?”

“They missed you.” She took out her phone, “They had a candlelight vigil for you in the city last week.”

Peter frowned, “Wait, what?”

“You know the ones they have for missing people?” She held out her cell, showing him a picture of hundreds, maybe even thousands of civilians stood in Times Square, some of which were dressed in Spider-Man merchandise, “They need you." 

Peter nodded because they did need him and he had vowed to protect them. He hadn’t realised how important Spider-Man had become to the city, but the people in that picture had lost people they knew, people they loved, and they had taken the time to pray for his safe return, he couldn’t let them down now, “Okay.” 

“I can help out if you like. With like, the…” She stuttered, “I don’t know how this works but I’ll just help where I can.”

“That would be great.” Peter hummed, “Thank you.” He gestured back, “We should probably get back to May and Pepper.”

“Sure.” She bounced up onto her feet; Peter carefully followed but stumbled forward. Michelle was quick, she grabbed his hand, and pressed another against his shoulder, “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Peter looked down at their hands. It was weird. O_f course, it was_. He had a crush on her but his nervousness seemed pretty ridiculous now. They stood together, awkwardly trying to avoid eye contact, although this was the normality that Peter desperately needed. He was surrounded by a team of superheroes, and weighed down by the memories of Titan, holding hands with Michelle, was perfectly normal, no matter how awkward. 

He slowly pulled on her hand, guiding her out. He nudged his IV stand with his other hand; Friday opened the door for them, and they stepped out into the corridor, they turned into Tony and Pepper’s private quarters. Peter was slightly surprised that the doors opened for them, considering the room required the highest level of security, but he guessed that Pepper had told Friday to let Michelle in without any unnecessary hassle.

May and Pepper were on one of the couches, legs crossed, deep in conversation. After everything they’d lost, Peter was glad that in his time away, that the pair had grown undeniably close. A friendship born from loss, but beautiful all the same.

May’s face softened at the sight of the teens, she cut herself off, and jumped to her feet, “Hey...” She bounced over towards them, wrapping her arms around the pair, pulling them into a hug. She leaned back and turned her attention to Michelle, she comfortingly squeezed her arm, “It’s good to see you, sweetie.”

Michelle smiled, with misty-eyes, “It’s good to see you too.” 

Pepper skipped over, stopping beside May, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Michelle.” She took her into a half-hug, before stepping back.

Michelle stared at her with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. Peter tried his best to hide his chuckle, because he knew that she idolised Pepper, “My friends call me MJ.”

“Well then, MJ, you can call me Pepper.” She trekked back to the couch, with May close behind, “Peter has already told me so much about you.” 

Michelle turned to look at him with raised eyebrows, “What?” He asked, swallowing his embarrassment. Michelle snickered as she helped Peter over to the couch, opposite the one that May and Pepper were sat on, they fell back, but they kept their hands locked together. 

Peter noticed the colour from Pepper’s cheeks fade, she placed her shaking hands on her knees. May wrapped an arm around her and muttered a few intangible words. Peter decided not to listen in, his body wasn’t ready for him to jump back into using his powers. He didn’t stop staring at them though because he could tell, they are hiding something. It seemed to be Pepper’s news but May knew what it was about, and Peter wasn’t sure if he could bear any more bad news.

“What’s wrong?” He finally asked, not able to hold himself back.

Pepper flickered her glazed eyes up to him, she tried to speak but her throat seized, “It’s okay.” May reached forward, taking her hand.

“Pepper?” Peter urged, but he made sure he kept his tone gentle, because he could tell what Pepper was holding back, was a weight on her shoulders.

“Um…” Pepper leaned forward, “I’m...pregnant.” 

Peter jolted, if Michelle wasn't holding his hand, he would have nose-dived of the couch. Dark thoughts started to spin in his head and nothing he did seemed to shift the heaviness of the guilt that pressed against his chest. Tony was gone and would never meet his child. Peter felt wrong. _Off-kilter_. He had been mourning Tony as a child who'd lost their father because that’s how he saw him, and always would, but now, Tony’s child was going to be born into a world without their dad.

Peter tried to speak but couldn’t manage it, all that came out was mangled exhale.

“Hey....” Pepper hurried over, and knelt down on the carpet in front of him, she cupped a hand on his cheek, brushing away his tears with the side of her thumb, “It’s okay.”

“He should be here.” Peter cried, “Not me.”

“No, no.” Pepper moved her hands, and clutched his free hand, “Tony wouldn’t have wanted that.” She blinked away tears, “He’d be happy knowing both his kids were safe, okay?” 

_ Both his kids? _ Peter’s breath hitched, he nodded because she was right. Tony lived his life putting the people around him first, wherever he was now, he would be glad that his family were safe. 

Pepper held his hand as tight as she could, “And what happened with Thanos, was not your fault. You know that, right?”

Peter stared at her in disbelief because she had the strength to mutter the name of the Titan who killed her fiancé. It reminded him of Harry Potter, how saying Voldemort’s name was forbidden but by saying it, you were stronger than those who didn’t. _ Fear of the name increases fear of the thing itself. _

“Sweetheart.” Pepper reached up, and brushed a hand through his curls, “I need to hear you say that this isn’t your fault.” 

He swallowed the lump in his throat, and nodded, “It’s not my fault.” And in all honesty, he wished he could believe that.

* * *

Peter sat in the middle of one of the lounges, he was surrounded by some of his childhood heroes, they were spread across the room, staring at him like a wounded animal. It was pretty intimidating. 

The only comfort he had was Rhodey, who hovered behind, ready to jump in and shut the whole thing down, if any of their questions got too heavy for Peter to handle, especially considering he had only been back on earth for thirteen hours.

No matter how small he felt, Peter found solace in the fact that he had been able to stop May and Pepper from coming with him. He’d heard stories that tensions between them, and the team, were high. There had been numerous arguments and a few breakdowns over the month that he had been stranded in space. 

He already knew he could tell by how hoarse May and Pepper’s voices were, but his gut instincts were confirmed when Rhodey caught him up. He wasn’t sure what they had fought about, he knew, from Rhodey’s retelling of events, that May and Pepper won every time.

He was more than relieved that he had been able to persuade Michelle to hang back because he knew it wouldn’t take much for her to lose her cool, and she wouldn’t care that she was taking on a team of elite superheroes. She would win, there was no doubt there.

Peter couldn’t lie and say he didn’t want to see all of them take down Steve Rogers, but he also wanted to get this interaction, over and done with, as quickly as he possibly could, so he persuaded them to stay back. _ All it took was his signature head tilt and puppy-dog eyes._

The room was alive with holograms of those they had lost to Thanos, the pictures and names kept changing, every once and while. Peter only recognized a few faces but it was rather horrifying to see those who had fallen. It made him realise that he was not the only one who had lost, everyone had. That did not ease his suffering, even though the world was on fire, Peter still felt like the universe was against him because Tony and Ned were gone_. _

Rhodey moved forward and placed a comforting hand on Peter’s shoulder, “It’s been twenty-three days since Thanos came to Earth.” He started, Peter flinched, Rhodey tightened his grip.

“World governments are in pieces.” Natasha continued, “The parts that are still working are trying to take a census. And it looks like he did... “ She stumbled, “He did exactly what he said he was gonna do. Thanos wiped out fifty percent, of all living creatures.”

Peter reclined his head as he absorbed the information. His stomach churned and his heart leapt up into his throat when the holograph in front of him switched from Princess Shuri of Wakanda to Tony. It was the first time he had seen his face since that moment on Titan. 

He wrapped an arm around his front, and leaned into Rhodey’s hand, the touch was the only thing keeping him grounded and stopping him from spiralling, “So…” _God,_ he despised how young, and scared he sounded. 

He ground his teeth and shook his head, he looked up at Steve. That was enough to give him the strength he needed, to hold his head up high, and answer all their redundant questions. It felt like Tony was giving him a reassuring push from beyond. 

Peter had no reason to feel intimidated by Steve, with everything he knew. 

He leaned his hands on the table, and straightened his posture, “Um, you guys fought him too, right?” He managed to ask, though he internally cringed at the attempt. _ Come on, Peter. _

“Yes.” Steve answered with a slight nod, “We did.” 

Peter hoped he would continue from there but the older man abruptly cut himself off, “And where is he?”

Steve held his hands up in front of him and shrugged, “We don't know. He just opened a portal and walked through.”

Peter's forehead creased, “Oh.” He leaned his chin on top of his closed fist and nervously cleared his throat again. There was something unnerving about Steve’s tone and the way he was holding himself, it was like he was simply shrugging the situation off like it was something that they could easily solve.

When Peter was younger and undoubtedly naive, he thought the Avengers could never lose. After he became part of their world, he soon realised he was wrong. _Now,_ they had lost, and some of them were acting strangely blasé about it. It was like they believed that this one conversation with Peter was going to solve all their problems. 

Maybe, Peter wasn’t the naive one after all.

“Do you know where he is?” Peter asked, scared at the prospect of facing Thanos again. 

“Not at the moment.” Steve told him, “But we’ll find him.” Once again, there was a sense of certainty in his tone.

Peter looked away, rolling his eyes as he did. He scanned the room as he waited for an influx of questions. He noticed Thor, sitting in the room next to them, separated by a pane of glass. 

The Norse God was hunched over, defeat etched across his face. He seemed to be the only one, along with Peter, who had regrettably accepted their failure. Peter’s heart yearned for him, knowing that the man had lost _ almost _ everything and was surrounded by a team who thought they could find a simple fix. 

Peter leaned forward, “Hm, is Thor okay?”

“No, he's pissed.” 

Peter looked around to see who had spoken. It was Rocket, the only surviving member of the _ Guardians of the Galaxy,_ he also happened to be a raccoon. Peter had been high on super soldier drugs when they were first introduced, and generally, he thought he had been a hallucination. 

“He thinks he failed.” A humourless smirk spread on Rocket’s face, and he shrugged, “Which of course he did, but there's a lot of that's goin' around, ain't there?”

Peter nodded as he stared, bemused, “I guess.”

“Peter?” Steve called trying to win back Peter’s focus. 

Peter knew Steve didn’t mean to sound patronising, that was just how his persona and tone came across. Peter was young, but he thought he deserved the same respect as everyone else. He wondered if Steve had spoken to Tony like this, it seemed likely. He felt like he was being talked down to, treated like a child. _ Yes, _ Tony had been a tad overprotective, but at least he had treated Peter as his equal. 

Peter had battled against Thanos on a different planet and survived three weeks in space. He didn’t feel like a teenager anymore and was tired of being treated like one.

“We’ve been hunting Thanos for three weeks now.” Steve continued, “Deep Space scans, satellites, and we got nothing. I heard you, well, I heard you fought him.” Peter squinted at his uncertainty, the one time the man sounded unsure about something was when it came to Peter’s skills as Spider-Man,_ that was a real confidence boost._

“Not really.” Peter blurted, “Tony tried his best to make sure I kept my distance.” 

Everyone in the room jolted at the mention of Tony, Rhodey patted Peter’s shoulder with a shaking hand. 

Peter had always called Tony ‘_Mr. Stark,_’ even though Tony had told him a million times not too. He looked back on all the time they had together, and wished he had been brave enough to call him ‘_Tony _.’

“I wasn’t even meant to be there.” Peter carried on, “In space, I mean. Tony tried to send me home.”

“He did?” Steve asked, “What changed?”

“I stayed, snuck onto the ship..” Peter shrugged, Steve’s face scrunched in confusion, “I wasn’t going to leave him on his own.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, “Okay. Well, you faced Thanos. Did he say anything that might be important? Any coordinates?”

Peter let out a long tired sigh, holding back a humourless chuckle. “I didn’t really hear him speak, sir...” The memories of the battle flooded his tired mind, he held out a hand in front of him, “He, um, he pinned me down and called me an insect.” 

They all flinched at that proclamation. Rhodey muttered a few expletives as he pressed his other hand on Peter’s back, reassuring himself that the kid was real, he'd survived. 

Steve crossed his arms, “Are you sure there’s nothing else?”

Peter’s throat involuntary cracked, “We found out he killed his daughter.” 

Rocket sunk down where he was sitting at the mention of Gamora. 

Peter brought his shaking hand up to his mouth, trying to hide his trembling chin, he tried to speak again but his words died, before he could mutter them. 

Rhodey stepped in, “Okay, that’s enough, Cap.”

“No.” Peter lay his hand on top of Rhodey’s hand, “I’m fine. Um, okay. There is something else.”

“What?” 

“Doctor Strange.” Peter blinked away tears, which he quickly wiped away with the back of his hand, “He saw fourteen million possible futures, and he only saw one where we won.”

Steve frowned, “And he knew which one it was?” 

“Yeah.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, “Okay, so what went wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Peter admitted, “Strange was protective of the stone, said his main priority was keeping it safe, but he gave it to Thanos so that he wouldn’t--” He cleared his throat, “So Thanos wouldn’t kill Tony.”

“What do you mean, Pete?” Rhodey asked softly.

“Thanos stabbed Tony.” Peter explained, looking down at the table, “I saw it. He was about to kill him. And Strange gave up the stone to save him.”

Carol, the newcomer, perked up, “But that doesn’t make sense.” 

“I don’t know if he just felt..guilty or…” Peter’s heart sank at a sudden realisation, “Or.. this was...this is it.” _What if this was it? _That was not something Peter had comprehended before. What if this was the future Strange saw? What if this outcome was their best-case scenario? 

“Are you sure there’s nothing else?” Steve said, pulling Peter out of his own head again, “Something you misheard?”

Peter shook his head, “No, sir. I’m sorry.”

Steve nodded, “Okay.”

A thought hit Peter’s chest, knocking the air clean from his lungs, for a few moments. He had grown close to Tony over the past year and a half, and he knew things, secrets that Tony had told him during his darkest nights. He knew about Siberia and Ultron. He understood Tony’s reckless actions more than the majority of the people there, besides Rhodey.

“Tony never told you about his vision, did he?” Peter asked, through gritted teeth. 

He was undeniably angry, but it wasn’t his anger. It was Tony’s. _ Yes, _ Peter was seething, because he loved Tony, and the man had never stood up for himself, so it was Peter’s turn to do it for him.

Everyone turned their attention back to him, “What are you talking about?” Steve quizzed.

“His vision.” Peter started, “The one where you all died, and he didn’t.” 

Steve looked to Natasha, who shifted where she stood. He could tell that they’d never heard this before, or if they had, they hadn’t listened.

“And he was scared of it. Really scared.” He sniffled, “That’s why he wanted a suit of armour around the world, to protect you. All of you. He wanted to keep you all together ‘cause he knew this was coming.”

Steve narrowed his eyes, “I--”

“Tony knew this was coming--”

Steve held out one of his hands to stop Peter in his tracks, “Look, I knew Tony--”

Peter jumped out of his seat, the sheer force of his movement knocked his chair onto its back, startling Rhodey, “No, you didn’t!” Peter bellowed, slamming his fist on the table.

Peter hadn’t felt this out of control since he came face-to-face with the man who murdered Ben. He didn’t hate Steve, and he couldn’t compare him to someone so despicable. He had just lost Tony, and the man stood in front of him, happened to be the same man that broke Tony’s heart, physically and emotionally.

Peter glared at Steve, “Not like I did, okay?” His throat cracked involuntarily, “He needed you, you know that? He needed you, and you weren’t there....”

He stumbled back a little, weak on his feet, “Pete…” Rhodey eased, placing two hands on his shoulders.

Carol rushed to their aid, she pulled his chair up, Rhodey muttered his gratitude. “Come on, Peter.” Her tone was stern but was simultaneously gentle. She wrapped her fingers around his bicep and with Rhodey’s help, attempted to get Peter to sit back down.

“Tony knew…” Peter sniffled, keeping his narrowed eyes locked on Steve, “And you didn’t listen.”

“Okay, Pete, you’ve made your point....” Rhodey eased.

“This is all on you!” Peter screamed as he pointed an accusing finger at Steve, “Tony said time and time again that this was gonna happen, and you ignored him! You only do what you think is right, but none of this would have happened if you had just listened to him!”

Steve stepped closer, “Kid…” 

“Don’t call me that!” Peter screamed; Steve took a step back, “Only Tony can call me that.”

Steve held up his hands in surrender, and nodded, “Okay, so...”

“That’s enough, Cap.” Rhodey barked, “No more.” He caught Peter's wrist, “Come on, Pete.” 

“Okay…” Peter breathed; Carol pressed a hand against his back, and Rhodey grabbed Peter’s IV stand, all three of them headed out.

Peter ignored the black dots swimming in his vision, his mind was locked on to how the team had been treating him since he got back. He couldn't help but feel like, to them, he was nothing but a clueless child. 

Tony had been cautious when it came to Peter, but he had never acted like he was superior. He had let Peter learn at his own pace, and he had listened to everything he had to say. He never pushed him, not after the Vulture incident. 

It might not have been Steve’s intention to make Peter feel that way, but it was what Peter took away from their argument. 

Peter's knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor below. He felt hands catch him, and distant voices call out his name, but everything was intangible.

He let the darkness take over, in the hope of seeing Tony and Ned in his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uncle Rhodey, for the win! (I love him, okay?) 
> 
> This is my first time properly writing Michelle and Peter's relationship, I'm so excited to explore their dynamic under these circumstances. 
> 
> Also, Morgan will be in this! I decided early on that I couldn't erase her from this story, she's too perfect! Also, her relationship with Peter, may or may not have inspired the title of this fanfiction.


	3. second guessed

Peter woke up to the sound of May's snoring. He prayed for a miracle. He would give anything for this to be a bad dream, caused by a concussion on patrol or something along those lines. He wanted to wake up, on his couch, with May sleeping in the armchair, and Tony looming over him, with his endearingly judgemental stare. It was a situation he had embarrassingly been in, a few too many times to count, but he needed that to be the case in this moment.

It wasn’t though, he could tell by the prominent smell of hospital disinfectant overwhelming his nostrils, and by how utterly powerless he felt. 

He wasn’t stuck in a twisted nightmare, he was stranded in a darkened reality.

He blinked his eyes open, the lights were thankfully dimmed, but everything else hurt. He chanted expletives under his breath as he clumsily attempted to push himself up into a sitting position. He tried to calm his ragged breathing, he didn’t want to disturb May or Michelle.

May was in the chair to his right, her head rested against the wall as she slept. Michelle was on the opposite side of the room, by his bed, her arms were leaning against the mattress - she was using them as a pillow.

Peter could see one side of her face, as the other was hidden behind her curls. She was sleeping too, from what he could tell. Of course, he had never seen her asleep before. Even on long field trips, she was always the one who never slept on the bus. _Ned had thought she was a vampire._

Peter felt immensely guilty, for overexerting himself. Not, for his own sake, but for those around him. The ones who had to deal with the aftermath. They were struggling and he was simply another problem. _Well,_ in his eyes he was.

A nagging urge tugged at his chest. He needed to get out. He didn't want to be surrounded by those he was hurting. Without thought, he tore out the cannula from the back of his hand and ignored the splatter of blood that followed. 

He twisted himself around and swung out of bed. He thanked his luck that someone had changed him into a set of pyjamas, a short-sleeved grey shirt, with red and green plaid bottoms. (He hadn’t fancied the idea of running around with one of those ridiculous gowns on.) 

He was stronger on his feet than before, he couldn’t tell if he was because he was recovering, or if he was running on adrenaline, fueled by his need to get out. He rushed away on his tip-toes, he quietly pulled the door open, and hurried out. He hoped that Friday would realise, that for his sake, he was safer outside the room, then in it.

He pressed a hand over where he’d torn his cannula out, hoping the pressure would stop the bleeding as he hurried down the corridor. He didn’t know where he was heading, everything was blurry, _uncertain._

“You shouldn’t be up, Peter.” A familiar stern though uncharacteristically soft voice came from beside him.

Peter abruptly stopped in his tracks, and turned, he instantly melted, “Happy?”

Happy stood in the doorframe to his dormitory, dressed in his usual suit, Peter was sure he slept in one, he would never be caught dead in casual clothes. He looked the same, except for the slight stubble on his cheeks, and the dark patches bruised underneath his eyes, from an obvious lack of sleep, and the news that Tony was gone.

“Hey, kid....” Happy sighed, stepping forward.

Peter leapt into his arms, holding him as tight as he could.

Tony had been a father figure to Peter, and Happy, well he was like, a grumpy but overprotective uncle. Their relationship was difficult to define and impossible to summarise. They’d had a rocky start, with dodged calls and avoided messages, but after the incident with the Vulture, everything changed for the better. Happy and Peter grew close to Tony’s amazement. Tony had told Peter that Happy lived a rather secluded life, and rarely opened up, when he did, it was only to Tony. Peter, being the person he was, broke through Happy’s walls, and wormed his way into his life. 

This wasn’t the first time that Peter latched onto Happy and broke. It wouldn’t be the last either. Plenty of patrols didn’t go to plan, ones where Peter was hurt, or he couldn’t save someone or saw something no kid should see. If Tony couldn’t get there in time, Happy would. 

“Tony’s gone.” Peter sobbed against his shoulder, “I--”

Happy inhaled a sharp breath, desperate not to break, “I know.”

Peter stepped away, keeping his tear-filled eyes locked on the floor, he wasn’t sure what he could say next. He tried to mutter an apology, he wasn’t sure why, but it was the sentiment that came to mind, but his words manifested themselves as a small cry. 

Happy caught Peter’s bloodied hand before he had the chance to hide it behind his back, “Let’s sit down.” He said gently, as he pressed a hand against Peter’s back, taking him into his room.

Peter planted himself at the foot of the bed, Happy walked over to a bedside cabinet, to retrieve a first aid kit. He proceeded to kneel in front of Peter as he took out an antibacterial wipe, “Where have you been?” Peter managed to ask.

Happy took hold of Peter’s hand, and wiped away the blood, Peter flinched at the sting, “I was in Georgia.” 

“I know that…” Peter winced, “But why?”

Happy looked up at him with glazed eyes, “I was looking for you.” He admitted, in a whisper, as he pressed a strip of medical tape over Peter’s hand.

Peter’s throat cracked, “I don’t understand.”

“We weren’t sure, Pete.” Happy started, he lifted Peter's hand and started to wrap gauze around it, “If you were on that ship with Tony or not. Your suit told us he sent you home, so we thought you could have been hurt on the way back down. I’ve been following every mention of Spider-Man," He scoffed, "No matter how ridiculous.” 

Peter’s breathing faltered for a second as he processed what Happy was telling him, “You shouldn't have done that.” 

“Of course, I should--"

“No!” Peter cried breathlessly, as jumped up, he stroked a hand through his tangled hair as he muttered under his breath. He turned to face Happy, who had moved up onto the edge of the bed, “I can’t fix this, Happy!” He exclaimed as he threw his hands back, “Tony should be here, _ not me,_ he’d know what to do! He could deal with this, I can’t, I’ve got nothing!” 

“Kid…” Peter stumbled back into an armchair that was parallel to the bed, he buried his hand in his hair, he tugged on it, attempting to ground himself.

“I’m sorry, Happy.” He sniffled, “I shouldn’t shout.” He wiped his hand over his face and looked up, “I really miss them, Tony...Ned. It doesn’t feel real.”

“I miss them too.” He sympathized, he had only met Ned a few times, but Peter could tell he was being genuine.

Peter swallowed the sob threatening to erupt, “They’re everywhere, in everything I do.” He pressed a hand against his chest, “That’s why I lost it, with…Rogers.” Happy nodded, knowingly, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” Happy reassured him, a sense of certainty in his tone that Peter wished he could accept as gospel.

“I feel so stupid.” Peter cried, “I don’t know what I’m doing.” His voice wavered, “People are gonna start asking who the next Iron Man will be. I can’t do that, Happy, I’m not Iron Man! I--”

“You’re not Iron Man.” Happy interrupted, with a slight humourless chuckle, “You’re never going to be Iron Man. Nobody could live up to Tony. Not even Tony.” 

Peter studied him, with intent. Happy was talking to him, as an equal, telling him what he needed to hear while being simultaneously gentle, he managed all of that, without acting or sounding condescending.

“Pete, you meant the world to him. You realise that?” Happy asked, Peter kept staring at him, like a deer caught in headlights, “Tony was my best friend, and he was a mess. He second-guessed everything he did. He was all over the place.” He leaned in closer, “The one thing that he did that he didn’t second-guess was picking you.”

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat, “What do I do now, Happy?”

“What you’ve always done, Pete.” Happy told him, “You keep being you, the person that Tony and Ned loved. And if you can, when you’re ready, you can be Spider-Man too. I’m with you, whatever you choose.”

“I will be Spider-Man.” Peter sighed, “They need me, but, I---I had to destroy the Iron Spider to fix the ship, and um, my Stark suit, doesn’t have a mask anymore. Dropped it.”

“You can build new suits.” Happy informed him, “Tony left behind the facilities for you to do so. You can build as many as you want, _well,_ within reason.”

“I’d like that.” Peter spoke quietly, “But, not just yet. I need…”

“Time.” Happy finished, “Take as long as you need, I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

Peter was grounded after his escapade, by May and Pepper, he was pretty sure Michelle also had a say in the decision. They were mad that he stormed out of the infirmary, after collapsing only a few hours prior. Apparently, it was_ irresponsible_, _reckless,_ and Peter had no concept of _self-preservation_. It was hard to ground him considering he was bound to the headquarters until Bruce gave him the all-clear to go home. It was more of a surveillance than a grounding, someone stayed with him at all times, apart from the occasional toilet break.

Peter stood beside the breakfast bar as he waited for Michelle to round up the food needed for their _ Harry Potter _ Marathon. Happy had gone to deal with all the security breaches caused by Team Cap, Captain Marvel, the remaining Guardians and Michelle temporarily moving into the headquarters without a clearance level. May and Pepper were talking among themselves in Pepper’s room.

Peter had learnt that the team had embarked on a mission to take down Thanos and locate the stones, it was their last-ditch attempt to save those they lost. He decided not to ask any follow-up questions on that front, because he didn’t want to think about it. There was nothing to be said. Peter knew that it wouldn’t go to plan, they were going in on it blind, after all. 

Nevertheless, he did hope that was his pessimism talking. For now, all they could do was _wait._

Michelle’s phone buzzed while she was pouring a packet of chips into a bowl, she stopped to take it out of her pocket, she read her notification and let out an exasperated sigh. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Ugh.” She circled the breakfast bar and stopped in front of him, “The last college on my list has closed its doors.” She groaned, “They’re all shut now.” _College._ That wasn’t something Peter had thought about in a while. He hadn’t thought about his future, well, at least not his educational future. It made sense that in the wake of all this that colleges and schools had to close down, they were at the forefront of something that had never happened before. _ No one,_ not even the government knew how to handle this. 

It meant that people like Peter and Michelle were left with an uncertain future. It seemed like a small defeat, considering the universe was in chaos, but at the same time, it was rather unsettling.

“We’ll be okay, you know?” Peter said reassuringly, “We’ve still got senior year, and um, I’m sure that Pepper would be happy to help. There’s always apprenticeships and internships if we can’t get into college.”

“You mean with Stark Industries? We could work for Pepper, actually with her--” Her voice involuntarily went high-pitched but that did not stop her, she kept going, stuttering over her words, but they soon became a jumbled intangible mess that Peter could not hope to make out. _ He didn’t care. _ He adored watching her sheltered exterior melt away at the mention of potentially working alongside Pepper Potts. She stopped mid-sentence, “Uh, what...” She narrowed her eyes, “What’s wrong with your face?”

Peter’s eyes widened, he tangled his clammy hands together and bounced back onto his heels, “Uh…” 

He liked Michelle,_ he really liked her,_ and that made him feel tremendously guilty. Tony and Ned were gone, and he had the nerve to stand there and worry about telling his friend that he had feelings for her. If anything were to happen, it would take time. Years, _even._ He didn’t want to rush. They weren’t the same people anymore. He couldn’t risk jeopardising what they already had, not at the end of everything.

He heard Tony and Ned screaming in his head, telling him not to be an idiot. Not to let their lose define who he is, from now on. They’d want him to be happy, but they’d understand, that takes time. The world has never lost like this before. This is a new unprecedented territory. Love and loss, they had different meanings and definitions now. It wasn't the same as it had been. The same they were engineered to cope with.

Death had been something Peter had discussed with Tony, once or twice, against his will, but he understood why Tony had done it, especially now, _ I know you don’t wanna hear it, kid, but you need too, just in case of an untimely death on my part. I mean, not that, death at any time isn't untimely… _

Peter wasn’t sure how to feel anymore. Normality, after all this, was something he would never stop wishing for but he was starting to realise it would only ever be that. A wish. You don’t watch half the universe disappear, including some of those you love, and then go back to leading your regular day-to-day life, it’s not plausible or healthy. 

Michelle prodded his arm, “Hey, loser?” She kept poking until he looked up at her. She raised her eyebrows, and tilted her head forward, in an attempt to get him to answer her. 

He could feel the heat radiating off his cheeks, _God,_ he dreaded to imagine how he looked, “Um…” He stifled an unsure laugh, “I really like you.”

Michelle shuffled back a few paces, she snorted a gentle laugh, “I really like you too.”

Peter grinned, and then panicked because he had no idea what to say next, “That’s um great, well, I’ve been worried about telling you, you know, and now…” Michelle bent down and pressed a quick kiss against his cheek, before leaning back. Peter hadn’t expected that, “What.._ what _…”

“I don’t really have much luck when it comes to getting close to people…” She paused, “Um...” Peter could tell, she was having a battle of her own, trying to find the right words to say, “With everything going on…” She cleared her throat and laughed again, “I’m glad…” She jokingly punched his shoulder, “I’ve still got you.”

Peter’s mouth twitched into a smile, “Yeah…”

* * *

Peter and Michelle sprawled across the couch, _ The Sorcerer's Stone _ was playing in the background as they worked together to design Peter’s new Spider-Man suit. Peter was providing input, but Michelle was the one sketching. 

She was busy shading in red portions of the new-and-improved ‘_ Stark suit _’ when she stopped, “Do you want this to be exactly the same as before?”

Peter hummed as he scratched the back of his head. His suits had always been red and blue, ever since he started in his ridiculous homemade costume. Although, that colouring had now become a staple of the Stark Suit. Peter adored that suit, but he couldn’t even look at it without being reminded of Tony, let alone wear it again. Michelle was right, it was time for a change.

_ The blue needs to go, _ Peter thought. He knew that, but what colour to change it to was the question, because he still wanted to tribute Tony, in some way or another. 

A sad smile spread across his face, he used to work in the lab with Tony, once a week, every week. They’d spent hours deafening themselves with a carefully orchestrated playlist as they worked on countless projects together. The one song that played, at least twenty times a night, was ‘_Back in Black_’ by AC/DC. Peter would roll his eyes every time it played, he’d then reference a [certain John Mulaney joke](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mw7Gryt-rcc) and Tony would have no idea what he was talking about. Peter hum along to the song because he couldn’t lie, it was good. That didn’t stop him from teasing Tony at every chance he got.

_ Oh, I love Led Zeppelin _

_ Jesus, kid. Are you trying to give me a heart attack? _

“I think I should switch it up a little.” 

“Okay…” Michelle picked up her pencil case, “So, what do you to change on this one?”

“Um..” Peter leaned over to look, “Switch out where the blue was, and change it to black, please?”

“Got it.” She took out a black pencil, and got to work, “I’ve got to say, I never quite understand the blue.” She raised an eyebrow, “Not very incognito, where’d you get the idea from?”

Peter shrugged, “The spider that bit me was red and blue.”

Michelle barked out an amused laugh, “And you thought you’d just go with that colour theme?”

“I didn’t have much to go on, okay?” He laughed as he playfully nudged her hip with his foot, “I was fourteen, got bitten by a spider and _bam,_ I had superpowers.” 

“But your webs…” She queried with a curious ring in her tone, “You manufacture them, right?”

“Yes, I do…” He narrowed his eyes when he realised where this was going, “And I know what you’re--”

“So, you didn’t actually have to go down the whole ‘Spider-Man’ route.” Michelle snorted, “You’ve got super strength, healing, all that shit, basically like a supersoldier, and you went for _Spider-Man,_ you know, the one creature feared by most of mankind?”

“Hey, didn’t you see that Buzzfeed article a few months back?” He asked, “Since I became Spider-Man, people have become less scared of spiders.”

Michelle shook her head, “Bullshit!”

“It’s true!” Peter defended in a squeal. 

She brushed a hand over the drawing, “Aren’t you still scared of spiders?”

“That is…beside the point.” He pulled his knees closer to his chest and rested his chin on them, “And people like Spider-Man, it’s way too late to change now…” He held out a hand, “Remember, I was mentioned in [ that Chainsmokers song ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FM7MFYoylVs)last year.”

Michelle rolled her eyes, “I bet you played that to death.”

“Obviously.”

“Poor May.”

“Poor everyone.” 

Michelle turned her notepad around, to give Peter a better look, “What do you think?”

“That looks…” His eyes widened as he studied the design, “MJ, that looks great.”

“I’ll shade it in later,” She took out a pen, “What do you wanna call it?”

“Well, the other one is called,” Peter chewed on his lower lip, as he tapped his hand against his knee, “The Stark Suit.”

Michelle’s face softened, “What about the Parker suit?”

“Sounds cool.”

“You had another suit, right?” She asked unsurely, she motioned up, “The one you used in, um, space.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, “The Iron Spider.”

She flipped over to the next page, “Want me to design Mark II?”

“If it’s no trouble....”

“I like doing this.” A mischievous grin grew on her face, “But I do usually charge commission...so, only this one time.”

“Thank you.” Peter giggled, “Fri, can you bring up the Iron Spider semantics please?”

“_ Of course, Peter _.” 

“Thanks.”

The holograms of the Iron Spider appeared in front of them, blocking their view on the television but they weren’t paying attention to that, “You want me to switch out the blue for black again?”

“Yeah, let’s stick to the theme.”

“Idiot.”

Peter itched the back of his head as he watched her, “How long have you known?”

“About Spider-Man?” She asked, he nodded, “I had my suspicions for a while.” 

“You sure no one else has figured it out?”

“Yeah.” She said it was a matter of fact, “It’s not like anybody really paid attention to you.”

Peter’s forehead creased, “Ouch.”

“Except for me.”

“Aw.” Peter’s heart fluttered, it was a welcomed change from the dread that had been pressing on his chest for the past month, “Thanks.” 

“I’m guessing…” She stuttered as she drew, “I’m guessing Ned knew.”

“Yeah. He was my guy in the chair, he was really good at it too…” He scraped his teeth over his lip, “I miss him.”

“Me too.” She flipped the page back to the ‘_Parker Suit,_’ she drew a small black line next after the word ‘Parker’ and added ‘Leeds.’ _ The Parker-Leeds suit. _It had a ring to it, that’s for sure. Peter blinked tears away, as he nodded at her - he would never find the words to explain what that meant to him.

Michelle went back to working on Mark II for the Iron Spider suit. 

A sudden paralysing shock sped up Peter’s spine, a sense that he was all too familiar with. He caught Michelle’s wrist, stopping her in her tracks, “Stop.” 

“What’s wrong?”

As if on cue, the room shook.

Michelle darted her eyes around, a mix of alarm and confusion glistened in her eyes, “What’s going on?” She asked, gripping onto his bicep.

Peter’s gaze fell on the rattling windows behind them, he could see the shining lights of the Benatar as it flew into view, “They’re back.”

He jumped over the back of the couch, with practised ease and skill that he shouldn’t have in his condition but somehow, he managed it. Michelle squealed as she tried to reach for him, but he sprinted across the room, “Peter!” Michelle dropped everything and charged over, she skidded to a halt beside him - only a stone’s throw away from the windows, “Peter?”

“Uh, sorry.” He blurted, “Just…”

Michelle took his hand, and leaned against his arm, “Are you okay?”

“Something’s wrong.” The Benatar touched down on the field outside, the building jolted, but the pair were able to keep each other held upright.

“What?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed, “Friday, do you have their mission report yet?”

_ “Yes.” _

“Read it,” He ordered, “Wait, no, just sum it up.”

_ “Peter, I’m not sure you are currently in the state….” _

“Friday, please…” He pleaded. 

_ “I---” _

“Activate ‘The Kid Knows Best’ protocol and tell me.”

_ “Thanos was located and quickly incapacitated, however, the infinity stones are gone.” _ She explained, "_He believed they serviced their purpose and he destroyed them.” _

Tears welled in Michelle’s eyes, she instinctively moved her free hand and gripped onto Peter’s arm.

“And, ah, are they sure?” Peter stumbled over his words, “...That the stones are gone?”

_ “Yes.” _

“And what about…” He wasn’t as brave as Pepper, he couldn’t say it, “...Him?” 

_ “Thanos is dead.” _

Thanos dying wasn’t a victory. He got what he wanted and they didn’t.

The stones were destroyed, and that meant those they loved were lost, indefinitely.

Their last strand of hope was gone. 

Peter looked up at Michelle, with misty-eyes. A mangled sob escaped his lips, he dipped his chin down to his chest as he forced air into his lungs. Michelle ducked her head down and rested it against his shoulder. 

They stood together, hand-in-hand, at the end of everything they once knew.


	4. an avenger on call

**FIVE YEARS LATER**

* * *

Spider-Man was the one true constant in Peter’s life. Everything else that he loved was a vulnerability; Michelle would kill him for thinking that. He knew she was a strong independent woman who needed no man, and she was more than capable of taking care of herself. As were May, Pepper, Happy, Rhodey and when she was old enough, Morgan. Having a family wasn’t a bad thing, Peter wouldn’t be half of who he was without them. 

_You’re not truly alive if you don’t open yourself up to be hurt. _

It was Peter’s worry - his main trait. He was in a set state of paranoia. It had rested heavily against his chest for eight years; the pain that came hand-in-hand with being Spider-Man. He knew his family, for the most part, were safe. It didn’t stop his fear, his panic attacks or nightmares. They were very much real. Something he’d never escape.

Spider-Man was _different._ That was part of who he was. It helped hold him together at his lowest moments. 

The world was at a loss. The human race had never been closer, so open. Peter was yet to meet anyone who hadn’t lost something. Grief connected everyone, in a pretty morbid way, but it worked.

New York adored Spider-Man. Having him as a beacon of hope, was everything they needed. The Avengers were retired. _Well_, most of them. Natasha stayed behind, and they had a few new recruits. It wasn’t the same as it used to be. 

Dauntingly, the world didn’t look up at the Avengers like they used to. They looked up to Spider-Man. They were fans of the little guy because he stayed. He didn’t run and hide. He was there, every day, helping people out. Peter didn’t understand the mania. In his eyes, it was his duty to be their Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man. _That’s how he liked it. _

Spider-Man was Peter’s promise. Something he could give back to the people after they lost everything. It was his anchor, it kept him true to who he was. That attachment was often _unhealthy_, and he forgot to live for himself too. Pepper had told him, on many occasions, that he shouldn’t only live for Spider-Man. _That’s just surviving. _He had to find a way to live his own life. It was hard at first, but he was getting there.

Peter swung through the lounge window of his studio apartment. He pressed a hand against his hip as he tore his mask off, and let out a tired sigh.

“You know....” Michelle said, deadpan. She was standing beside the kitchen counter, busy tying up her dyed red hair into a messy bun, “...You could just use the front door.” 

Peter snorted a laugh, and closed the distance between them, “That’s not very inconspicuous.”

“Inconspicuous?” Michelle raised her eyebrow, “There is nothing inconspicuous about you.”

“Um, thanks.” Peter’s forehead creased, “I think.” 

She pulled on his bicep and kissed him, “Idiot.” She mocked affectionately as she skipped to the other side of the room, “How was patrol?” 

“Fine…” Peter shrugged, “The usual.” He watched as Michelle used Karen’s holograms to look through the semantics for her project, “How did the board meeting go?” Michelle looked up, with an untelling expression. “Bad? Good?” She didn’t falter, “I have no idea--”

“Harley is on his way to London now to finalise it.”

“Seriously!” Peter exclaimed, “That’s great!”

Michelle’s blunt persona melted away, “I know!” She freaked, “Pepper told me we are having a celebratory meal at hers tonight. Morgan’s choice.”

“Morgan’s choice?” Peter recited, he held up a hand, “Oh, mac and cheese.” He sang, like it was unexpected, “Yum.”

Michelle playfully hit his shoulder, “Get changed and we can head off.”

“On it.” He turned towards their bedroom, “Ah, before I forget. Morgan left her toy turtle here when she stopped over last week. Have you see--” Peter sensed it coming but he decided not to do anything - the plushy hit him in the face, “_Oh_, thank you.” He caught it before it fell to the floor.

“What would you do without me?”

Peter spun around to answer but was cut off by a loud knocking at the front door, “Who’s that?” 

“We’re not expecting anyone.”

“Peter?” That was Steve Rogers’ voice. There was no denying that. Out of all the people in the world who could be knocking on their door, Steve was the _last _person he was expecting. 

Aside from Natasha and Rhodey, Peter didn’t have any ties with the Avengers. They saw Nebula, Rocket and Carol, on the rare occasions they were around but that was it. Peter left that world behind him, to find a sense of normality after Thanos. He hadn’t spoken to Steve in four years, same with Bruce and Thor. They lived their lives and he lived his, they co-existed but never collided.

Michelle crossed her arms, and tensed, as she glared at the door, “What--”

“Must be something big.” 

“Better be.”

Peter walked over and glanced through the peephole. To his surprise, Steve wasn’t the only one there. Natasha was too, which made sense, considering she knew where they lived. Peter’s stomach leapt forward, when he noticed, that standing awkwardly behind the pair was Scott Lang aka Ant-Man. Last time Peter checked, he was _dead_. He was one of the blipped. _How could he be here? _

Peter couldn’t wait for answers, he needed to know. He pulled the door open, not even caring for a second that he was still in his suit, “Hey.” 

“Peter.” Steve said, his mouth set in a determined line, “We need to talk.”

“Okay.” Peter reached to scratch the back of his head, “We haven’t got long, Miss. Stark is waiting for us…”

“And she isn’t a fan of tardiness,” Michelle added, her annoyance obvious in her tone. 

“We promise…” Natasha said, softly, “This is important.”

“Okay.” 

Natasha squeezed Peter’s hand, “Thank you, _маленький паук_.” She headed in, over to Michelle, “Spinneret.” She greeted, with a half-smile, as she held out her arms. 

Michelle’s persona switched in an instant for her mentor, “Hey, Tasha.” 

* * *

Peter wished they’d called ahead. It would have been easier to let them down gently that way, instead of harshly face-to-face. Peter understood the desperation to save those they lost, or at least, avenge them. He would give anything to have Tony and Ned, safe within his sights again but he couldn’t do that when it risked the lives of everyone he had left. He knew that neither of them would want him to go down that path. 

_Time travel_. That was the proposition. The idea. To go back, get the stones and fix it. Sounded easy enough but they’d never understand the dangers that would come with it. 

“I’m sorry, guys, really but there’s a lot to think about.” Peter blurted as he sunk deeper into his couch. Michelle was sitting next to him, fumbling with his hand anxiously, she did that often, so Peter wasn’t phased.

Steve stepped closer, “You’ve seen a lot, Peter. Is anything really impossible?”

Impossible wasn’t the right word. Not in this situation. It was quite _possible_. Peter doubted he could do it alone, but it could work. This was Tony’s area, more than his own. The daunting part was, they had the proper means to invent a time machine, with Hank Pym’s particles, and the partially functioning quantum tunnel. Millions of factors went into something like this. Firstly, _safety_. Peter didn’t need a spider-sense to know how dangerous this would be. It was a matter of life and death.

Peter loved Tony and Ned. A day was yet to go by where they weren’t the first thing on his mind. They were in everything he did, every decision he made. When he went on a mission, set by Natasha, in the Iron Spider, he felt like Tony was right there, protecting him from beyond. Whenever he was on patrol in the ‘Parker-Leeds’ suit, he’d talk to himself out loud, like Ned was in his ear. Peter wanted them back. _Of course_,_ he did._ Just, not like this. Time travel is unprecedented territory. More than _dangerous_. If they messed up, they had more to lose, than they had to gain. Peter couldn’t risk his family, especially not Morgan. 

“Time travel isn’t what you think.” Peter started, “Quantum fluctuations would mess with the….the…”

“Planck scale.” Michelle filled in. 

“That’s it.” Peter held up his spare hand, “...And then you’ve got the Deutsch proposition.” The trio stared at them like they were talking in a foreign language. 

Natasha swallowed a lump in her throat as she looked at Peter, with glazed eyes, “Peter.” She spoke softly, a tone she reserved for Morgan, whenever they were together, “Tony thought you were the cleverest person he’d ever met. If anyone can figure this out, it’s you.”

Peter shifted, he didn’t want to let Natasha down. She did so much for them. She kept the team together when she wasn’t obliged to. She trained Michelle, one-to-one, in hand-to-hand combat. She hadn’t tried to force Peter to be an Avenger like others had. She let him follow the path he felt most comfortable on, and helped him along the way, in all the ways she could. 

Everyone referred to Peter as ‘_an Avenger on call_.’ Most of the time, he was simply a Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man, but Natasha would occasionally call him if they needed him for the big shit. That had only happened twelve times, and those missions hadn’t been too hard. This time, was the first that Peter had to turn down.

“I’m not Tony, Nat...” Peter sighed, “If he was here, he’d say the same thing.”

“I’m not sure he would,” Steve said, as he paced around.

“This is dangerous.” Michelle said, point-blank, “You make one mistake and none of you will make it home.”

“But I did...” Scott pointed out.

“We get that Scott, but that was an accident.” Peter said, “You’re so lucky to have made it back…” He brushed a hand through his hair, “And, what’s your plan anyway? What do you wanna do?”

Scott raised his eyebrows, “A time heist?”

Michelle slouched forward, “Yeah, right.” 

Peter shook his head, “We can’t.”

“The stones are in the past.” Steve said, pointing out the obvious, “We can go back and get them.”

“We can snap our own fingers.” Natasha continued, “We can bring everyone back.”

Michelle’s glare faltered, as she looked over to Natasha, “It’s not that easy, Nat.”

“We could mess it up like, really mess it up.” Peter sniffled, “More than _he_ did.” 

Steve held his head up high, “I don't believe we would.”

“Look, there’s no safe way to do this.” Peter said, “There is nothing I can do.”

“What if strictly follow the rules of time travel?” Scott suggested, “That means no talking to our past selves, no betting on sporting events -”

Michelle held up her free hand, stopping Scott in his tracks, “This isn’t Back To The Future.”

“This is real life.” Peter nodded, “We make one mistake….”

Natasha moved over, pressing a hand against Peter’s shoulder, “We have to take a stand.”

Peter looked up at her, with misty-eyes, “Not this, Nat.”

“I get that you have a lot on the line.” Scott said, more desperate than before, “But I lost someone very important to me. A lot of people did.”

“Scott, I lost Tony.” Peter interrupted, “And my best friend. I understand. I’d do anything to save them, but not this. Not something that risks everything that we have left.”

“This is a chance to bring them back!” Scott bellowed, “And you're telling me that you won't even…”

“No.” Peter said firmly, “We won’t.” 

Michelle leapt off the couch, “We’ve gotta go.” Peter followed, he wanted nothing more than to get out of this. 

Steve reached out, placing a hand on Peter’s bicep, “Peter, I get it. I’m happy for all of you...” His eyes settled on Michelle, who avoided his gaze, “I really am. But this is our second chance…”

“That’s not what this is.” Peter chewed his lip, “I’m sorry, Rogers. But....” He picked up Morgan’s plush turtle off the coffee table, “I can’t.”

* * *

Peter’s mind refused to shut up. Michelle drove, while he sat in the passenger seat letting his thoughts and anxieties stew. He wanted to have a normal day, celebrate Michelle’s victory at her board meeting, and spent time with his little sister, _was that too much to ask? _He wished the team hadn’t come to him to give him these conflicting thoughts and ideas. Turning them down was one of the hardest things he had ever done. 

“Hey, loser.” Michelle said quietly, “You with me?

“Yeah, yeah.” Peter stuttered as he rubbed the side of his head, suppressing a looming headache, “Sorry.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Peter dipped his chin to his chest, “Um…”

“Peter?”

“They’re not gonna stop.” Peter shook his head, as he turned to look at her, “Are they?”

“I don’t think so…” She sighed, “They might run out of ideas.” Peter knew it was bad when Michelle was trying to be the optimistic one. 

“They’re gonna…” Peter cut himself off mid-thought, “Have you seen Nat like that before?”

Michelle’s face fell, she drummed her hand against the steering wheel, “Never. She’s determined. You know she wants to fix this. And with…” She hesitated, “...With everything going on with Barton.”

Peter jolted, “Yeah.” He looked to his feet, “MJ, they don’t know what they’re doing.”

Michelle let out an exasperated sigh, “I know.”

They turned into the driveway to the Stark Lakehouse, Peter dipped his chin to his chest, “I don’t wanna…”

Michelle stopped the car. She leaned over, brushing his unruly curls back, out of his eyes, “Me neither.” She pulled out the keys, “Let’s drop it.”

“Yeah.”

Michelle’s mouth twitched into a smile, “Look.” She hummed, gesturing outside with her head. 

Peter turned to see. Morgan was sitting on the steps that lead up to the front door; she was wearing her Spider-Man jumper, toy Iron Man repulsor and favourite bright pink leggings, it was a contrasting and unique sense of style, but it was hers. She was hunched over, holding her head in her hands with a look of boredom etched over her face.

Peter let out a wet laugh and clambered out of the car, “Miss. Stark.” He sang as he skipped over to greet her. She didn’t move, not even to look up at him, “Hey.” He knelt in front of her, “You not talking to me today?” He reached up and bopped her nose, but she was pretty determined in her coldness, “Hey, Morgan? Morgs? Miss. Stark?”

“Where were you?” 

“I got caught up with work.”

“Like work _work_?” She asked as she twirled her hair around her hand, “Or Spider-Man work?”

Peter leaned in closer, and whispered, “Spider-Man.”

Morgan grinned as she flung her hands back, “That’s okay.”

Peter noticed the _Rescue _helmet rested by her side, “Oh...” He picked it up, and spun it around, “Where did you find this?”

“Garage.”

Peter raised his eyebrows, she was definitely Tony’s daughter, “This was a very special anniversary gift for Mum from Dad.” He told her, “I helped him build it.” Peter could remember the chaos of building the Rescue armour, the long days and sleepless nights. It was to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of the day Pepper and Tony met. “It’s very special. We should probably put it back.”

Morgan nodded, “Okay.”

Michelle skipped over, “Hey, Morgs.”

“Mimi!” Morgan bolted over and locked her arms around Michelle’s legs.

Pepper stepped out onto the porch, “Oh, there you are.” She kissed Peter’s cheek, and wrapped an arm around his back, “Morgan was very close to sending out a search party.”

Peter chuckled, “She called Happy again, didn’t she?”

“Yeah...” Pepper confirmed, “Because apparently, you are never late, ever.”

“Happy didn’t freak out, did he?”

“No.” Pepper reassured him, “May’s with him.”

Michelle snorted a laugh, “Figures.”

“Hey, Miss. Stark.” Peter took off his backpack and knelt, “I’ve got a present for you.”

“Really?” Morgan waddled, she didn’t stop until her knees bumped against his, “What is it?”

“Close your eyes.” He told her, she did. “Hold out your hands.” He took out the plush turtle, and placed in her open palms, “You can look now.”

Morgan opened her eyes, her face lit up, “You found him!” She hugged the plushy close, “I thought I lost him.”

Peter giggled, as he tucked her hair behind her ear, “Try not to lose him again.”

“No, I’m gonna keep him really safe.”

“What’s his name again?”

“Ned.” 

Peter felt something heavy tug his heartstrings as Morgan cradled her toy.

“Hey, honey.” Pepper cooed, “What do you say?”

“Thanks, Petey.” Morgan kissed his cheek and hurried up the porch stairs, as she muttered affectionate words to her toy. 

Peter got up onto his feet, Pepper nudged his shoulder as they walked up into the house, “I heard about your interrogation.”

“It wasn’t a…”

Michelle rolled her eyes, “Oh, it was.”

“Yeah.” Pepper nodded, “They have no boundaries.”

“You can say that again.” Michelle sang as they stepped into the house. 

Pepper leaned against the breakfast bar, “I’m sorry that they…”

“It’s okay.” Peter squeezed her arm, “You don’t have to worry.”

Pepper leaned over, cupping his cheek, “I always worry.”

“I know.”

* * *

Peter and Michelle were on washing up duty while Pepper was trying her best to get a hyperactive Morgan to go to sleep. Michelle was cleaning the dishes, and Peter was drying up. It was how they always did it. Usually, they worked effectively together but Peter’s head was stuck in the clouds. 

“Think fast!” Michelle held up the sink sprayer.

Water splattered all over Peter’s face, “Hey.” He bounced around, trying to avoid it. “Do your job.” Michelle teased as she put it back down into the sink, “You may be Spider-Man, Tiger, but that will not get you out of this.” 

“I’m doing it, I’m doing it,” Peter laughed as he placed a plate on the rack. 

Peter stopped when his eyes locked onto the fridge. It was covered in photos, there was not a free spot. Pepper had gone all out with the prints and magnets. Some impossible force pressed against his chest, making it difficult to breathe. Michelle was speaking but he heard nothing, just white noise.

His feet moved for him, and he froze at the side of the fridge. With shaking hands, he took down a photo. It was one of his favourites. It was a _selfie_, of him, Tony and Ned, at the Avengers Headquarters. An ecstatic Ned is wedged between the pair, holding up his building pass, upside down, with the goofiest grin that Peter’s ever seen. Tony is pointing at the pass, with a knowing smirk, while Peter is simply smiling. He wished he had treasured the day more, it was the last time he ever saw them both in the same room together.

“Peter?” Michelle’s voice broke through the silence, Peter felt as panic spread over his chest, “Hey…” Michelle reached out, taking his hands, “Hey, loser.” She said gently, “Look at me.” She pressed a hand against his cheek, pulling him back to reality, Peter listened, and looked into her eyes, “You’re doing an awful job with that drying up.” Peter snickered as his panic subsided, “Let’s do it.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, “The drying up?” 

“No.” Michelle laughed, “Time travel.”

Peter’s breath hitched, “MJ…”

“They’re gonna keep going,” She gripped his hands close, “They won’t stop. They’re really stupid…” She looked down at the photo, her eyes filled with tears, “But _desperate_. You could...I don’t know, you can control the chaos.” 

“I’m not sure.” 

“You’re gonna try.” Michelle cut in, a quiver in her voice, “I know you are.” 

Peter looked at her, through bleary eyes, “Yeah…” 

* * *

Peter kept the picture close by, as they worked with Friday. It reminded him of what he was fighting for. Everything they tried failed, and with every attempt, it felt like they were taking a step back. 

Michelle sighed, leaning against the table, “One more sim?” 

Peter cradled his head in his hands, “We’ve tried everything…” 

“Boh.”

“Okay...alright,” Peter stood up straight, “One more...” He held up his hand to move through the holograms Tony’s notes. Peter wasn’t shocked nor surprised that Tony already had a folder dedicated to ‘_Time Travel._’ They’d be lost without it, “What have you got for me, Tony?”

Michelle pointed up, “What about that?”

Peter leaned in to read, “Mobius strip?”

“That could work.” Michelle circled the table, “Friday, try again. This time, in the shape of a mobius strip.”

Peter moved the holograms, “Give us the eigenvalue. That, um...particle factoring, and a spectral decomp.”

_“Just a moment.” _

Michelle took Peter’s hand, as she muttered nonsensical wishes under her breath.

_“Model rendered._” It flashed up. _63% successful_. The best yet, but still not enough. 

Michelle groaned, “We’re so close.”

“This wasn’t gonna be easy…” 

“We could sleep on it,” Michelle suggested. Peter looked at the photo, an idea hit him, at full force, “Peter?”

“Friday, can you run that again?” Peter asked, “Exactly the same. Just invert the Mobius Strip.”

_“Of course, Boss.”_

Peter leaned closer, hanging onto Michelle like a lifeline. 

“_Model rendered._” It flashed green, and Peter’s stomach dropped, when the result came up. _96.2% successful_. 

_“_Shit.” Michelle coughed, she jumped, catching Peter’s other wrist as she dragged him into a hug, “Oh my, God.” 

“We did it,” Peter pressed his forehead against hers, as he let out a shaky breath, “We did it.”

Michelle giggled and bent down to kiss him. 

“Eeeeew…” 

They parted in perfect synchronization and spun to see Morgan standing at the top of the stairs, silently judging them. 

“Ew..” Peter skipped and leaned against the banister, “Hey?” 

Morgan grinned, “Why you up?”

“We’ve just…” Peter looked at Michelle, for guidance.

“We’ve got….” Michelle stuttered, “Something on our minds.” 

Morgan’s smile turned devious, “Was it Juice Pops?”

“What’d you say MJ?” Peter asked nonchalantly, “Was it Juice Pops?”

“I think so.” 

“Come on, Miss. Stark.” Peter held out his hand, Morgan skipped down and took his hand, “Let’s get some...Juice Pops.”

* * *

Morgan’s bed was a little small for the two of them, but they managed. Peter was sat up, under the duvet, with Morgan curled on his lap, she was finishing off her juice pop. She held it up, with a tiny piece left, “Here.”

“Oh.” Peter faked his surprise, “You done with that?” He took it, “Thanks. What should I do with this?”

She shrugged, as she tucked her head against his shoulder, “I don’t know.”

“I’ve got an idea.” He ate the last bite, “Ta-da.” He held out his arm, “Come on, bedtime.” He scooped her into his arms, and with his foot, kicked back her duvet, and then laid her down, he knelt beside the bed, to tuck her in.

“Tell me a story.” 

“A story?” He asked, “What about?”

“Daddy.”

“There’s a lot.” He pointed out, “Dad always went to bed when he was told to.”

Morgan squirmed as she giggled knowingly, “No, he didn’t.

“No.” Peter scoffed, “He didn’t.”

“You shouldn’t lie, Petey.”

“And you shouldn’t be awake this late.”

Morgan pressed her hand against his mouth, “Shush.” 

“Alright.” He said, muffled, he moved her hand away, “I love you.” He got up to leave.

“How much?

Peter hummed as he thought, “To the moon and back.”

Morgan threw her arms out, “I love you to Venus and back!”

“Venus? That’s pretty far.”

“Mimi said that it’s the only planet in our solar system named after a girl.”

“Well, that’s unfair.”

“And stupid!” 

Peter knew that Michelle would be so proud of this, “That too.”

“How much did Daddy love me?”

Peter stopped. Tony would love her fiercely and protectively, Peter knew that from experience. The universe had been so cruel, tearing Tony away from the life he’d strived for, “He loved you tons, munchkin.”

“I love him 3000.”

“Hm.” Peter bent down, kissing her forehead, “3000? That’s huge.” He opened the door, “Goodnight, Miss. Stark.”

“Goodnight, Petey!” She cooed as Peter stepped out, closing the door. He wished he could tell her, that if everything went their way than Tony would be back within the next week. She could meet the dad that she loved so dearly. 

Peter skipped into the lounge, all his anxieties melted away when he saw May curled up on the couch next to Pepper, “May!”

“Oh.” May bounced up, “Hey, honey!” She pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, “Ooo.” 

Peter leaned back, “Where’s Happy?”

“He’ll be here in the morning, he’s got some work things to fix.” She explained, “You know what he’s like.”

“Yeah.” 

May moved back, sitting beside Pepper. 

Michelle got up from where she had been sitting in the armchair, she circled the coffee table and stopped at Peter’s side. She looked at him, with wide-eyes, and motioned to them. 

“Hey...” May cut in, “What’s going on?”

“We…we….” Peter strained, trying to find the right words.

“Figured it out.” Michelle blurted, unable to hold back.

“You know,” Pepper held out her hand, “...Just so we're talking about the same thing-”

“Time travel.” Peter finished.

Pepper’s eyebrows shot up, May scrambled, grabbing her hand. May had obviously been updated on the day’s proceedings, so Peter was grateful he didn’t need to explain from scratch. 

“What?” Pepper tightened her grip on May’s hand, “Wow... That's amazing…”

“And…” May let out a slow breath, “Terrifying.”

“We don’t have to do this.” Peter admitted, “We don’t have to help them. We could…”

“Throw it away,” Michelle added.

Peter nodded, “Forget about it.”

“You know, sweetheart.” Pepper got up, and walked over, she grabbed Peter’s hands, “I know you’re probably tired of hearing this, but you’re so much like Tony, it scares me. You’re going to this, that’s why you’re asking.”

“You’re restless, baby.” May said gently, “You never settle. You never will, if you let this go. I think this is something that you’ve gotta do…”

Peter leaned back, looking up the stairs, “What about…”

“We’ll be fine.” Pepper told him, “I trust you, more than anyone on that team. Trying to get Tony to stop was one of the few failures of my life. He couldn’t rest.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, “It’s the same with you.”

“So…”

Pepper tapped his arm, “Do it.”

Peter looked over at Michelle, she narrowed her eyes, “Why you looking at me?” She squealed, “I helped you design the damn thing.” She nudged his bicep, “You’ve got this, Tiger.”

“Okay…”

* * *

Peter sat up in bed, thinking. Michelle was lying next to him, reading her book. She pushed herself up, and turned to him, “Wanna talk?”

“I was thinking…” Peter cleared his throat, as he tapped his hand against his knee, “I should head off now.”

Michelle tilted her head to her shoulder, “Now? Like right now?”

“If I don’t go now. I don’t think I ever will. And they’re quite far away, so…”

“Alright.”  
  
He took her hand, “Look, MJ…” He kept his eyes fixed on her knees, “I could stop this, you know? I don’t have to do this--” She leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the lips, “What was that for?”

“Nothing.” She teased, “Look, stop trying to get me to talk you out of this. We both know you’re gonna do it because you want to. You want the chance to save Ned, Tony and...everyone else who’s gone.”

“Of course I do.” Peter sighed, “I just wish it wasn’t like this. This...this is dangerous...”

“Yeah, it is.” She confirmed, “But that’s why that team needs you, they’ll keep getting it wrong if you don’t do something about it."

"So what your saying is....” He mocked, “I’m the smartest superhero?”

Michelle rolled her eyes, she nudged his shoulder, “Shut up.” She took a moment, dropping her smile, “You can do this.”  
  
“Oh, I know.” He let out a heavy exhale, “It’s just the getting there...”

“Just don’t be a fanboy, and you’ll be fine.”

“I am_ not_ a fanboy.” 

“Yes, you are.” She chuckled. Peter pulled her into a kiss, “Well played, tiger.”

Peter climbed out of bed, “Okay, I need to get ready...” Michelle followed, she gripped onto his hands, almost unbearably tight, but he said nothing.

“Um..” She trailed off, lost in everything she needed to say, “If...if this works and everyone comes back... People are gonna be scared. Guess New York will be...chaotic, I’ll stay with May and Happy, so I can help out....”

“Sounds good,” Peter sniffled, “You got your suit?” Referring to her combat suit that Natasha had helped her design, for occasions such as these.

“It’s at home.” She ruffled his hair, ‘Um, please, um, do me a favour and let them all die first?” Peter hummed a laugh, Michelle closed her eyes, “That came out wrong.”

“Yeah?”

“Just...” She pulled his hands towards her, “Don’t die.”

“Got it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want Peter to figure out Time Travel alone, he's younger than Tony and therefore, inexperienced. He went to a science school with Michelle, so it makes sense that both of them did it together, with help from Tony's notes. I promise this is not 'anti cap,' he's gonna get his time to speak up. Right now, Peter and Michelle are in a tricky area with him in terms of forgiveness.


	5. the kid knows best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has it really been four months?
> 
> Wow, my bad.

Peter left quietly. He didn’t know what the future had in store, time travel was something new and he’d had his fair share of new. _ Of course, it wasn’t always bad _. When Morgan came along, she was something new, and Peter loved her with everything he had. On the other end of the spectrum, Thanos had been something new, and he murdered trillions. Including people that Peter loved, or at least knew, in Flash Thompson’s case, who against all the odds, Peter missed too. 

Peter was taking a step into the unknown. He didn’t know whether he would live or die. It was hard enough leaving Michelle behind. A part of Peter wanted her to hold on, tell him not to go, but she would never do that. She knew he needed to do this, and so did he. Even if the future was hazy and unsure. 

Peter had a duty. An oath, of sorts. _ When you can do the things that I can, but you don't and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you. _ That hadn’t changed since he was bitten by that Spider, this was no different. Peter had the tools, mind and heart to get this right; he had to hope that this time around, the universe was on his side.

He left without saying any goodbyes. Just a few ‘_ see you laters _.’

Peter wanted to come home. He wanted to live. If he took the time to say goodbye then it would be admitting that he might _ not _.

He slipped into the Headquarters, without being noticed. Friday directed him towards one of the hangers, and the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach made him think that what he was going to see wouldn’t going to be good.

“Get your helmet on, Scott.” Bruce’s voice reverberated into the corridor, Peter skidded to a halt. _ Bruce? _Peter didn’t know the scientist as well as he wanted to. Bruce left everything behind, to find himself, and he did. Now, he was a mix between the Hulk and Bruce Banner. Peter had seen him, a few times, spread intermittently across the years, whenever their paths happened to cross. Bruce was one of the cleverest people that Peter knew, but this certainly wasn’t his area. 

“I'm gonna send you back a week, let you walk around for an hour, then bring you back in ten seconds.” Bruce continued, he didn’t sound too sure of what he was saying, which in this line of work, was dangerous, “Makes sense?”

Scott hummed back, “Perfectly not confusing”

“Good luck, Scott.” Steve said, as sure as ever, “You got this.”

“You're right.” Scott squealed, like the fanboy he was, “I do, Captain America.”

The mischievous part of Peter wanted to see what happened next, but every other sense was screaming at him to stop them, before it was too late, “Oh…” He charged into the room, webshooters at the ready, “Wait!” He webbed Bruce’s hand up, stopping him from pressing the console.

Natasha’s face lit up, she smiled softly, “Peter?”

“Yeah…” Peter breathed, “It’s me.” He stopped by the console to check Bruce’s calculations, he cringed outwardly.

Bruce took a heavy step back, resting a hand under his chin, “What?” 

Peter waved his hands around haphazardly towards the console, he didn’t want to offend one of his heroes, “This wouldn’t have worked.”

“Why not?”

“You see this…” He pointed, “You were about to push time through Scott, not Scott through time.” His voice kept bopping, up and down in pitch, he swallowed the lump forming in his throat, “It's the EPR paradox.” 

Steve narrowed his eyes, “And that means?”

“You would have turned Scott into a baby.”

Scott shrieked, “What?!” 

Natasha circled around, placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder, “Thank you.”

“You know what these are?” Scott yanked a vile out, from the side of his suit, “Pym particles.” He snipped, “This is all we have since Hank Pym got snapped out of existence! This is it…” He let out a heavy breath and stormed towards the exit, huffing and puffing under his breath.

“Scott…” 

Natasha followed, “I’ve got him.”

Peter bowed his chin to his chest, he was alone with Bruce and Steve. He’d made a silent vow to stick with Natasha, no matter the cost. She was the perfect icebreaker, but his plan had failed in the first minute. 

“So…” Peter held up his wrist, presenting his work, “MJ and I figured it out.” He looked up, “With some guidance from Tony.” 

Bruce looked down, curious, “What is this?”

“Um, it's a little like a GPS.” Peter shrugged, “It should work.”

Steve smiled, “Thank you.”

Peter turned to face him, “Look, Rogers.” He tried to let go of all his ill-will towards the Captain, he needed too if this was going to work, but it proved difficult, knowing that the hurt he inflicted was on Tony, “Um, I want to do this. I really do.” He interlocked his fingers, “But I’ve gotta keep everyone else safe too. That’s my job.”

“I know.” He nodded, “If this goes south, we’ll hit the brakes, I promise.”

“Okay.” Peter pointed in the direction he'd walked from, “Um, come with me.” He turned and awkwardly led Steve out into the corridor, where Peter had dumped his luggage, “Pepper and I were talking about how we’re gonna need, like, keep up appearances where we’re heading.” He unzipped a bag, “So, we thought…” He drew out the shield that had been tucked away in the garage for a very long time, “You’d need this.”

“Peter…” Steve tilted his head to the side, “I’m not sure.”

“Neither am I.” Peter admitted, “Tony should be the one to do this, but he did regret, taking it.”

“I-”

“I’ll keep it.” Peter told him, “Morgan was looking for a new frisbee.”

Steve jumped, hands out in front of him, “No, no.” He stuttered, taking it. “Uh, thank you.”

Peter nodded, grateful for the common ground between them, “So, what’s next?”

“We’re working on that.” Steve sighed, “We’ve gotta round up the team.” 

The Peter, who was stuck in the middle of the _ Battle of New York _, under the table in May and Ben’s arms, squealed inside his head. Back then, joining forces with the Avengers would have been a dream come true. Right now, in reality, it was probably one of the scariest things he’d ever do.

Peter got straight to work on the Quantum Tunnel, while everyone else split to regroup. Steve dropped by, every now and then, with a freshly brewed cup of decaf coffee, caffeine messed with Peter’s senses, and he'd learnt that the hard way. The first few times felt normal, but by the fourth cup, Peter realised how absurd it was that Captain America had seemingly taken on the role of an intern, without a word muttered between them. Granted, Steve couldn’t do much else until they went hunting for the stones, it was still mental.

Peter was busy coding when the door crashed open, and a familiar monotone voice followed, “Parker.”

Peter’s mouth twitched into a smile, “Nebs!” He leapt out of his seat and threw his arms around her. Nebula let out a long nasal sigh but then patted his back with a hesitant hand, she’d grown used to his antics, “Hey....” He stepped back, “How are you?”

“I am good.” She informed him, “And, you?”

Peter rested a hand on his hip, “I’m okay.” He noticed that she was holding a piece of yellow craft paper in her hand, he motioned towards it, “Um, what’s that?”

“Morgan left this on the ship, on her last visit.” Nebula thrust it in his direction, “It belongs to you."

“Oh.” Peter took it and turned it around, it was a drawing of Spider-Man and Iron Man, zooming through the crayon streets of New York City, “Wow.” The gravity of what they were attempting collapsed on his shoulders, he scraped his teeth across his lip to hold back a cry. He hugged the picture to his chest and looked up, “Why would you show me this?”

Nebula was whisked away by Rocket to get to work building the tunnel. Peter spent a few minutes explaining the blueprints, but the pair understood quickly. 

“_Peter… _ ” Friday interrupted what he was doing, “ _ Rhodey is on his way to see you _.”

Peter’s forehead creased, “Rhodey’s here?”

_"That’s what I just said. ”_

“Okay, okay…” Peter stuttered, he sometimes forgot how sarcastic Friday could be, but it made sense, considering who created her, “Sorry I asked.”

He hopped out his chair and opened the door. Rhodey was walking towards him, holding a McDonald's takeout in his hand, “Hey, Pete!” He out-stretched his spare hand in a wave, “I brought food.”

“Uhh, thanks.”

“How are you doing?”

“I’m…” Peter muttered; Rhodey pulled him into a bone-crushing side hug, “Fine.”

“What…” Rhodey raised an eyebrow, “Are you surprised to see me?”

“I thought you’d be too busy, you know…” Peter shrugged, “Running the country.”

Rhodey rolled his eyes and strode into Peter’s lab, “I’m _ only _Vice President.”

Peter snorted heavily, “Only.” He closed the door and perched on the side of his desk.

“You know what I mean, smart ass.” Rhodey teased, he gestured to the computer screens, “How’s this going?”

“We’re almost there.” Peter turned, entering a code into his program, knowing he’d forget it if he didn’t, “We should be able to do a test run tomorrow…” He turned around, Rhodey was scanning him, head to toe, “What?”

“Nothing.” 

“Rhodey?”

“You just…” Rhodey smiled, wide, “Look like him.”

Peter took a break, to sit and eat lunch with Rhodey. They hadn’t seen one another in a while, Rhodey was busy, balancing presidential duties alongside his side gig, helping Natasha out with the New Avengers, where he could. Peter was preoccupied with work and Spider-Man, it made their calendars rather hectic.

Their conversation was cut short, by a knock at the door, “Peter?”

It was Natasha, already back from Tokyo. 

The day had run away from Peter.

Peter swallowed his last mouth full of his burger, “Come in.”

Natasha cautiously pushed the door open, her eyes found Peter, and then caught a glimpse of Rhodey, “Hey, you two.” 

Rhodey sat up straight in his chair, “Nat.” He greeted gently, with a knowing nod.

Peter could feel the tension, he knew exactly who was hovering close by, “Did you find him?” 

Natasha nodded, there was an obvious sense of uncertainty in her actions, a side to her that Peter had never really seen before, “He’s right here.”

She stepped into the room, and Clint Barton followed, he looked out of place, “Um, Clint, this is Peter.” Natasha held out a hand, in Peter’s direction, “Peter, this is Clint.”

Peter jumped up and held out a hand, “Nice to meet you.” 

Clint shook it, with a bewildered look etched across his face, “You’re Tony’s kid?”

“He is.” Rhodey answered, bouncing out of his chair, “And he’s the best of the best.” He clamped an arm around Peter’s shoulders, gripping him tight. 

Rhodey was somewhat overprotective, it was a by-product of losing Tony. He hovered, a lot, but it had gotten easier to handle since he moved out to Washington. Peter loved him and understood the worry.

Peter realised it would be strange for the team to walk on broken glass around Clint, especially when he used to be one of them, but Thanos’ choices changed him, and he wasn’t the man he once was. Which was why Rhodey’s hand on Peter’s bicep shook. 

Clint opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped, by Steve, popping his head around, “Hey, Peter, how are you getting on?”

“The suits are almost done.” Peter spun around, he clapped his hands together, and Friday projected the plans for the suits to the team, “Almost ready for a test run.”

Clint stared, forgetting himself, his jaw dropped open.

He stopped when Natasha nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. 

Steve studied the holograms, “Good job.” 

Peter didn’t sleep that night, despite Rhodey forcing him to go to bed in the early hours of the morning. The many texts from the rest of his family, which didn't help. There was too much riding on this, and Peter couldn’t sleep a wink until they’d tried.

The next morning, they were testing the suit. Scott was acting as their Guinea Pig. He was Ant-Man, after all, this was his area.

Rhodey walked around, arms crossed over his chest, “Not a bad job with the suits, Pete.”

“Thanks.”

Scott perked up, “Why red and black?”

Peter’s cheek flushed with colour, “Um, it’s my…”

Rhodey howled a laugh, “It’s his theme.”

"Alright.” Scott turned his attention to Bruce, who was messing with the Hank Pyms, “Hey, hey, hey! Easy, easy!”

“I'm being very careful.”

Scott scolded him, “No, you're being very Hulky.”

Bruce held up his hands, letting Scott take the vials from him, “I'm being careful”

Peter stepped closer, with his hands outstretched, “Let me do it...”

“You can trust him, Scott…” Rhodey reassured him, “Pete’s engineers his own webs.”

Scott nodded, “Okay.” He handed them over, “This is all we have.”

“I know.” Peter clicked the vile into the side of Scott’s suit, “Done.”

“Sorry.” Scott sighed, “We've got enough for one round trip each. That's it. No do-overs. Plus two test runs.” His hand accidentally slipped, pressing the button, and he shrunk down. 

Peter jumped back, mid-yelp.

Scott reemerged, at his normal size, with a guilty look, “One test run.” He shook his head, “All right. I'm not ready for this.”

Peter nodded, in agreement, “I'll do it.”

Rhodey scoffed, “Fat chance--”

Peter spun to face him, “I’m not a kid anymore, Rhodey.”

The team couldn’t stand by and watch Peter build their way out of all this, but then still treat him like a child, when the going got tough. He was one of them now, whether they liked it or not.

Peter could see that Rhodey was itching to answer back, with, ‘_ Yeah, but you’re Tony’s kid _,’ but he’d used that argument one too many times, and it never worked. 

“I’m the one who created the suits.” Peter explained, “I have to do this, I’ll be okay.”

Rhodey looked him in the eye, “You better be.”

It didn’t take long to transfer the suit over; Peter stood on the platform, waiting as Bruce and Nebula did the last checks.

“Peter, now you're gonna feel a little discombobulated from the chronoshift,” Bruce explained, “Don't worry about it.”

“I’ve been to space...” Peter reminded him, “Won’t be too different.”

Scott shot him a baffled look, “You’ve been to space?!”

Rhodey tapped Scott’s back, “You’re in a desperate need of a catch-up.” He waved a hand in Bruce’s direction, “Wait a second, let me ask you something. If we can do this, you know, go back in time, why don't we just find baby Thanos, you know, and…” He held out his hands and gestured, clearly suggesting that they find a younger version of Thanos, and strangle him to_ death _.

Peter shrieked, “Rhodey!”

Bruce chipped in, “First of all, that's horrible…”

Rhodey reclined his head back, “It's Thanos.”

“And secondly, time doesn't work that way.” Bruce continued, “Changing the past doesn't change the future.”

“Look, we go back, we get the stones before Thanos gets them…” Scott joined in, “Thanos doesn't have the stones. Problem solved.”

Clint agreed, “Bingo.”

Nebula and Peter spoke in unison, “That's not how it works.”

“Well…” Clint sighed, “That's what I heard.”

Bruce turned to look at them all, “What? By who? Who told you that?”

Rhodey came at them, with a list, “Star Trek, Terminator, TimeCop, Time After Time -”

Scott added on, “Quantum Leap-”

“A Wrinkle in Time, Somewhere in Time…”

“Hot Tub Time Machine-”

“Hot Tub Time Machine!” Rhodey reiterated, “Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. Basically, any movie that deals with time travel.”

“Die Hard?” Scott added, “No, it's not one.”

“This is known.”

“Those are movies, they’re not true.” Bruce held out his hands to explain, “Think about it: If you travel to the past, that past becomes your future. And your former present becomes the past. Which can't now be changed by your new future…”

Nebula leaned in, “Exactly.

“So..” Scott’s face crumpled like they’d crushed his dreams, “Back To The Future's a bunch of bullshit?”

Peter tilted his ear to his shoulder and offered him a sympathetic nod.

Nebula tapped Peter’s shoulder, “You’re ready.”

He tried to hide a panicked breath, “Okay.”

He walked up the ramp and stood in the centre, suited up, ready to go. Internally, he was ready to keel over because this was unprecedented. One slip up, and he wasn’t coming home, but however, if he didn’t take the leap, then neither would Tony or Ned. 

“Alright, Peter.” Bruce powered up the tunnel, “We’re going in, 3, 2, 1…”

Peter shrunk down and flew through the blizzard of blue, he was somewhere only a hand full of people had ever been. He crashed onto floor before he had the chance to take that in.

“Shit.” He bounced back onto his backside and nursed his knee with his palm, “Ow.”

He darted his eyes around, he was still in the compound but in a completely different area, the south-east corridor, that looked out onto the training field. He was tucked away in the corner, by the restrooms.

There was no saying if it was a different day. He would hate himself if all he’d managed to create was a fancy expensive teleport system.

He soon realised there were people outside. He couldn't see them from where he was, but he could hear them, shouting over one another. Dozens of agents, going through the trials of training. It had been many years since the Headquarters had been used for that.

“Wow.” He pushed himself onto his feet, he retracted his mask and pressed a hand against the wall, to anchor himself.

_ It worked _.

A series of footsteps vibrated through the floor, and an overly familiar voice followed - _ his own. _

“Are you sure, Mr. Stark?” 

Peter held his breath, he clamped a hand over his mouth and nose, to stay quiet.

He knew what was coming next, or most accurately, _who_. 

“Kid, how many times do I have to say it?” Tony laughed, “It’s fine.”

“I just…” Peter’s counterpart squeaked, “I don’t want to, you know--”

“Zip it, stop.” Tony mocked, “Shush, no more.” He clapped his hands together, in his usual style, “It's fine, I promise, you’re staying here this weekend and that’s final."

Peter remembered this. It was three weeks before Thanos. May was going out of town, and Peter was meant to be staying at home alone, but Tony wouldn’t allow it. Peter was never sure why he had been hesitant to stay with Tony, the compound was already a second home to him, at this point. Perhaps, a piece of him would always be shocked, that Tony was part of his world.

“We’re gonna stay up late in the lap, or braiding each other's hair, whatever you want.”

“Eh, Mr. Stark!”

Peter edged towards the corner, to catch a glimpse.

His counterpart was facing away from him, Tony was ruffling his hair, “It’s up to you.”

Past-Peter swung back onto his heels, “Can--”

Happy’s past-self emerged from behind a pillar, he balled his hand around the back of Peter’s hoodie, “Come on…” He playfully pulled the teenager towards the exit.

Tony grinned and waved them off, “See you tomorrow, kiddo!”

Peter waved back enthusiastically, “Bye, Mr. Stark!”

Peter and Happy’s counterparts disappeared through a set of doors.

It was only Tony left. 

He was chuckling fondly to himself, with a hand on his hip. 

Peter’s instincts screamed, telling him to act professionally. He couldn’t stop his heart from taking control, because it was Tony. Peter had never had a chance like this before, and if all this went wrong, he’d never have a moment like this again, “Tony!” Their eyes met, but before any other communication could go forward, Peter was zapped back, “No!” 

Peter collapsed face first, on the Quantum Tunnel floor, he was greeted by the sound of a bone-chilling crunch. 

Somebody screamed, “Peter!”

There was a chorus of voices, shouting out his name and then a series of heavy footsteps on the ramp followed. 

Cautious hands pressed against his back, “Hey, hey, Pete?!” It was Rhodey, he sounded terrified.

Peter was met by a wall of instant flashbacks, because once during training, Rhodey accidentally hit him in the face, and then Tony spent over an hour shouting at his friend for his _blatant negligence_. Of course, this was after the hours he spent making sure Peter was okay. 

Rhodey squeezed his arm, “You okay?"

Peter managed to mutter out a weak, “Ow.”

“Trust you to land on your face.” 

Natasha’s gentle hands wrapped around Peter’s other arm 

Peter pushed his forehead against the cold ground, “It worked.

Rhodey’s breath caught, “That’s amazing, Pete.” He tapped his back, “Now, let’s check you over, and then talk about it.”

“I’m fine.” Peter sat up slowly, trying to avoid a head rush, Natasha and Rhodey kept a firm grip on him.

“Oh shit, kid….” Clint hissed, he was hovering above, with Scott, “That looks broken.”

“Uh.” Peter reached up, blood was gushing out of his nose, and it was definitely out of place, “Oh.” 

Rhodey shook his head, “Pete, please don’t--”

Peter gripped his nose tight and cracked it back into position.

Scott jolted back, retching, “Eh, ew, _no_!” 

Clint watched on, with wide eyes, a mix of disgusted and impressed, “What the fuck?”

Peter shrugged half-heartedly, “I heal quick.” 

Natasha bowed her head to her chest, “You get used to it.”

“Yeah.” Rhodey sighed begrudgingly, “Up we go.” Natasha and Rhodey carefully guided Peter up onto his feet.

Peter felt himself sway to the side, into Rhodey’s steady arms, “Hey, hey…”

Peter winced, “Uh.”

Rhodey tightened an arm around him, “You gonna pass out?”

“No.” 

“Throw up?”

Peter narrowed his eyes, “Maybe.” 

“Come on then, let’s get some super-soldier drugs in you.” Rhodey wrapped Peter’s arm around his back, so he could guide him safely down the ramp.

Peter leaned his head on his shoulder sleepily, “You’re the best.”

“And you’re delusional.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the bit where Nebula gives Peter the drawing was inspired by Brooklyn Nine-Nine.


End file.
